Harry Potter, A Child Again
by Tory
Summary: Harry is fighting Voldemort again A repeat of fourth years graveyard scene seems decided He escapes Voldemort; but turns into a child in the process What will happen when the they never find Harry’s body but do find Voldemort’s dead? And do find all o
1. Default Chapter

  
  
A.N: REWRITE! It should be a bit better then the old version, though I am not promising anything. Hope you enjoy, I recommend rereading it. For it hints a little better at some facts that were not made apparent.  
  
Summary: Harry Potter, the wizarding worlds hero, is 15 and fighting Voldemort again. A repeat of fourth years graveyard scene seems unavoidable. And when Harry finally resorts to that method, he finds many differences from last year that he didn't expect. He escapes Voldemort as he had planned; but turns into a child in the process. What will happen when the wizarding world never finds Harry Potters body but dose find Voldemort's; dead? And dose find all of Voldemorts victims alive again? This will happen...  
  
ON WITH THE STORY.  
  
A thousand daggers pressed into his chest. The pain made it impossible to breath, slicing into his lungs, if they dared to take in the tiniest amount of air. He attempted to move from his knees, but the pain pushed him back; locking his bones in place. The teen swallowed, tasting the bitter sweet flavor of blood. It was not an uncommon taste in his mouth.  
  
"I will not join you Tom." Despite the situation, he pushed his lips into as much of a smile as his aching face would let him. How long had he been saying that to this man; how long had he told himself he was going to to stand in front of him, of Tom, and confidently say those words, perhaps even smirk.  
  
How long, also, had this man asked him? What drove him to keep trying? The look he received? Most likely.   
  
_What do you see in me, monster? Part of yourself? Perhaps.   
  
_   
But he was kneeling in front of the man, like one of his dirty servants, and he was not smirking, nor speaking it confidently, he was whispering. It did not matter, how many times they both danced this, it never changed. Not until those words were exchanged, then the new steps arose. Then it was up to the quickest learner, to keep up.  
  
It didn't matter that he was The Boy Who Lived, because, kneeling in front of this man, he was only Harry Potter, a scared fifteen year old boy. Briefly, he wondered what was before Voldemort. Who Tom Riddle was.   
  
_ Like me, huh? I can't say an orphanage would have been worse then my uncle, Voldemort. We both see it don't we. We both see the possibility in my eyes.  
  
_But as he looked into those fire eyes, his anger took over and a burst of energy bubbled up from some previously hidden chamber. Survival, it was all that mattered now, not that Tom and he were similar in so many ways, not that he was only fifteen. He pushed the pondering thoughts aside, and put all of his energy into surviving.   
  
The energy rushed through him, like fire burning wood, but even wood must snap at the red flowers jaw. His wood snapped, and Harry Potter once again was left with nothing. It had not lasted long enough. He admitted, it was time to.  
  
Dying, he was dying, the realization came as a faint surprised; rather like learning it was your birthday: anticipated but not understood. Dying, how strange. He had never, he realized, been this close.   
  
No one was coming to help him. _And yet_, a small voice whispered dully in his head, y_ou planned all of this. You must do it...you know you must.  
  
_He shoved the voice aside, but he knew it was true. A band wrapped its way around his chest, slowly squeezing the last breaths from his body. As he realized this, he pushed again at the wall of pain, into the gripping ice, and said. "You chose me, you finalize your choice."  
  
_We are equal Voldemort, you made sure of that. Was Dumbledore right? Did you see yourself in me?  
  
_  
The words seared at his throat, smothering it in fire, while his chest was still in ice. When Voldemort spoke again, Harry could not be sure if it was in Pareltongue, or English.   
  
"You know you will die, you can feel your body giving way, can't you. Part of you is in ice, and the other in fire, your mind is zooming, thinking of thoughts, and breaking off. You can't keep you thoughts on my words, can you Potter. I know it to well."   
  
"No, Tom Riddle, I do not." He wasn't going to mention, showing another similarity he was sure, that he had felt this way before, that his uncle had his body crumble close to this extent. No, Harry Potter would keep that secret to the grave.   
  
"Foolish boy, just like your mother, just like your father. Just like your _Godfather_." His eyes fluttered open, at the words, two emerald beacons in the darkness of night that was beginning to swallow them. To guarded, and hard stones, set in a face that should not have held such pain.   
  
Harry Potter had thought himself dead, until that voice had spoken again, he could almost imagine that voice was of his own waning imagination, but, alas, it was real. His Godfather, he almost laughed, that was a new insult.  
  
It worked as the monster would have like though. Perhaps it was routine, from always defending them, that made his body forget the pain, or, more reasonably, perhaps his mined so craved an idea to cling to, and it had claimed this one, however feeble.  
  
He could hear his heart in his ear, pounding to a unrhymed drum. And although his body begged him not to, he rose to his feet. Voldemort smiled, pleased with his pain, and that he would kill Harry standing up; it was much more enjoyable.  
  
Following his revive in energy, came the fight. The dance continued. Leading up to this point, both Wizards had been careful not to send a curse at the same time, lest the grave yard scene of fourth year, be repeated.   
  
Yet, as he stared across at the monster, Voldemort, The Dark Lord, Tom Marovo Riddle, he felt a sense of foreboding. He knew, that he was going to have to see his parents, he had known all along. "Have you enough energy to duel, or shall I put you out of your misery quickly?"  
  
"I'll manage, I always do. And anyway, Voldemort, it would take a lot more then death, to put me out of my misery." He went into a dueling position, and while he had this moment, he examined the monster.  
  
His face seemed congruous when compared to his younger self, when he had still used his natural name. Those red eyes, they seemed as striking as Harry's green. Anyone, could have spotted Voldemort out of a crowd, just the same for Harry. He had been handsome, Harry knew, when he had been in school.   
  
_How death must scare you, Voldemort, to give up such a human thing, for a longer time on earth. Death does not scare me, I am beyond the point of caring.   
  
_  
The Dark Lord, paused, before sending off a paralyzing curse, more advanced then the one Harry had learned in first year. Harry threw a disarming curse, he knew it would not work for its made purpose, but all he wanted it to do was hit the others wand.  
  
They did hit, colliding together to erect an electric wall of purple and blue, before fading. Doubt, washed over Harry for a moment, at the possibility that it had not worked, and with it panic.   
  
But a wall was bursting up, golden and shining. The wands connected with a golden string, and the bead that had been there last year, slit in two.   
  
The beads, as if magnets with wrong ends facing, rushed in opposite directions. His bead, racing at him faster then he would see, crashed into his wand tip. But it did not stop at the wand, it climbed up into his arm, like a burning bullet under his skin. He screamed, the sound burning his throat, and building a fire in his lungs. He couldn't breath.  
  
Then, just when he thought he was going to die from lack of air, the small bead waned away, and he was left with an almost comfortable warmth.   
  
He knew he had to act fast, if he was not dyeing, then he was going to black out, and, Voldemort had to be alive for this part. He heard the mans body fall to the ground.   
With his best aim, considering he had lost his glasses, he shot a curse, chanting under his breath. As the last words left his lips, he fell to the ground too. Then darkness hurled a cloak over him, and everything was deadly silent.   
  
He was in a world of darkness. Of deafness. Of images.  
  
_Green eyes stared back at him from the mirror, while small hands reached to gingerly touch a swollen eye. _ It would heal,_ the black haired child was thinking, as he replaced the black rimmed glasses. He winced as they touched the sore skin, but objected no further.  
  
Wood, three knots in flood board, was staring back at him. He concentrated on the largest knot, forcing himself to think of it, instead of the pain in his stomach. Small hands, tinier then the last, traced the woods grain. The body heaved with an unsteady breath, back arched in pain, but he knew better then to cry out._   
  
_A musky smell filled his nose, mingling with the sent of an old dirty cot, but he was far to used to it to really care. Darkness engulfed the small area, and he knew he couldn't reach the light bulb that hung over his head; he was only three. Far to small for the task, and even if he tried, the cot would creek terribly, waking his uncle. Better to wait till morning for light.   
_  
  
_Humming. It was pleasant, nothing like the previous memories. He was being rocked back and forth, he realized. He noticed, also, the red fiery hair above him, smiling lips. While smooth, soft hands, brushed his hair.   
Harry Potter, could now, not even contain his half conscious mind. He could not even think, let alone lift his lead lined eye lids. _Sleeps took him..._  
_  
  
And as it did, he felt as if he were drifting, wind across his face. It was the same feeling that had happened when he had magically appeared on a roof top as a child. He paid it no further heed, preferring to marvel in the feeling of flying.   
  
He did not even think that perhaps he had magically moved himself to another place... 


	2. In the down fall

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Once under the trees little protection he called the dogs name again. Fainter still the sound came. This time though the man ran. His feet splashing in the puddles that littered the forest floors ground.   
  
  
The sound he realized was not from his dog, but from a child.   
  
  
He stopped several times to hear the sound again and to see if he was still heading in the right direction. It was on a pile of leaves that he finely found the source. In a large jacket a small child was wrapped. Ryan Mcclain, reached down to touch the child's too cold skin and it grabbed his finger as if it were a life line. You've got a good grip. He spoke softly watching as the child's eyes moved to find his face. Now what's your name, huh? Inside he was frightened, were was the mother, or, father, but he hid that from the child. It couldn't be older then a year. Carefully he pick the child up.   
  
  
His wife was pregnant, and even though she was only a few weeks, they had been trying to have a child for years. Ryan had already gone to, far to many classes, and he had always been afraid he would drop the child. He smiled slightly as he picked the baby up, but then he remembered the place were he was and what had brought him here. Reluctantly he bent down and placed the child on the ground again. It cried out as its back touched the cold, wet ground, and Ryan quickly took his coat off. He picked the child up again, wrapping it in the jacket. He planed to go to his house, hand the child to his wife, and call the police.   
  
Where's you Mummy, or Daddy? He asked, aware that he would only get a faint gurgle. The thoughts of Spice had left his mind, as he walked back to there house the slight wait of the child in his arms bearing a sense of apprehension. Never had he dream of finding a child. He had seen it in movies, but in real life he had always been surprised to find a dog.  
  
_A child_, a part of his mind echoed. _Who would leave a child like this._ Ryan found himself hugging, as he would if he were cold, the coat closer to the child. He glanced down, gazing into green eyes, as bright as an emerald. Your a handsome little fellow aren't you? He only received a babbling sentence. Oh, really? He inquired, although he didn't know what about. I understand, truly. The little conversation had carried him all the way to his house. He walked past the fence, up the stone path and finally opened the door.   
  
Elisabeth, come here. Her wife, wearing muddy jeans was wiping her hands on a towel. Spice came home by himself, sorry honey. You weren't answering your cell phone. Her brow furrowed as she caught sight of the bundle was carrying.   
  
Ryan cut her off. It's a baby, warm up some milk, I found him. He's very cold. You haven't gone shopping for this age have you? It was a rushed statement done as he raced towards the phone. He pushed the baby into Elisabeth's hands, and faintly from the kitchen he could hear her gasp. She bustled into the kitchen a second later, grabbing milk and warming it up. Poor little fellow. She whispered.  
  



	3. All faces found, yet one is still lost

  
  
  
  
I want to let everyone know that I am aware that my chapters are painfully short, and let people know, that later on they will not be. I would also like to explain that this facfic is immensely AU (Alternate universe) and that in my story Sirus Black (Is that the correct spelling?) is alive.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
**  
The faces found, yet one is still lost**  
  
  
  
We've got a body!   
  
The ones mans shout tore through the pouring rain. But it did not bring as fast a reply as the voice had come. The air turned thick, even the rain that was pouring down seemed to hold its breath. Every one on the small search party stopped looking around the grave yard that Riddle manor over looked.   
  
But no one made a move to rush to the mans aid, and he did not blame them. He knew why, no one wanted to know if it was Harry Potter or not. Even the dog that Remus Lupin had brought with him did not seem to think it fit to move.   
  
This was why Jacob Kallman was still building up the courage to move the cloak that lay messily over the persons face.  
  
He reached out a hand, grasping the cloak and, pulled it away; looking only long enough to see the think mop of untidy black hair, and round glasses, then quickly covered it again.  
  
I think its Potter, sir. Jacon Kallman was the youngest of his group, a new Auror just hired after Dumbledore's grave news of Voldemorts return. His old Headmaster creaked over, feeling all his age and more. He bent down, whispering in the boys ear.  
  
Everyone else is crying, no need to be excluded. The young man nodded, standing quickly. Albus extended a hand to the cloak, and as he looked at the presented face he paled.  
  
Remus, come please. He said beaconing the man over. Slowly the werewolf approached, a burly dog at his heel.  
  
Is it Harry? Dumbledore had respectively recovered the face. His head slumped, as if he were to tired to even hold it up, the half moon glasses falling to the tip of his nose.  
  
I do not think so Remus, please if one of you could, I think it a far stranger situation. Remus bent down, confused to why the Headmaster was so grave, given it was not Harry.   
  
Snuffles, Sirus Black, was the first to reach the body. He pushed the cloak away, revealing a handsome face. Indeed there was a remarkable resemblance to the face. Sirus barked, and when ignored, pulled on Remus' pant leg. Again Sirus prodded at the body, this time it admitted a low moan.  
  
Get a healer, he's still alive! Remus called to the small search party. One hurriedly Deapparated. Remus pulled the glasses off the face, and forced one eye open, gasping at the color: blue.  
  
Albus, it's James. There was a stagger in his throat. A sickening feeling came over him as he stared down at the face, of the body he had seen fourteen years ago.  
Dumbledore heard this and stood quickly, as though he half expected the occurrence.  
  
I want this whole place searched, thoroughly Tonks, Kingsley, Moody, Snuffles and the other small number on the search party split up at Dumbledores words.  
  
Moody, by the end of the hour found Cedric Diggory roaming the dirt street only half remembering anything. Tonks stumbled, literally, on Lilly Potter, unconscious as her husband. Kingsley found an old man at the Riddle house, telling him that he took care of the house and he had to cut the grass.  
  
It was obvious to Remus and Dumbledore as well as everyone else that these people were a bit confused. By the rising dawn of the next day they had located dozens of people- some from the beginning of Voldemorts rise. They had even found the body of Voldemort himself- dead.  
  
  
Yet, Harry James Potter, The Boy Who Lived- was still unfound.


	4. Waking to the World

A/N The plot is beginning to thinking, and the train is fueling up. Oh, now it's getting fun! Right now I think it would ruin some of the foreshadowing to answer to many questions, and I have not gotten to many of them anyway. So I wont answer reviews on this chapter.   
If I have spelled any words or names wrong, I urge you to point them out to me.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I will never own the Harry Potter world. Believe me when I say I am earning no money from this. Please do not come after me with lawyers!  
  
Hundred of miles away from Dumbledore's sight, and Remus Lupin's smell, a small child of one year, was sleeping peacefully in a hospitals nursery.  
  
Ryan and Elisabeth watched through a window as the small child slept. They were still waiting for the Doctor to come back, and tell them if everything was alright (he had, had to leave urgently for another case in the middle of speaking to them before).  
"I'll go get some coffee, alright Elisabeth?" Ryan asked, but his eyes never left the small baby. His wife nodded slowly, releasing her husbands hand, and slowly he shifted his eyes down one of the hallways. When he came back with the luke warm liquid he found his wife talking to the Doctor- he rushed over.   
  
"-find a temporary home, and look for his parents. Maybe he was kidnapped, in which case they will be given back the child. But if they abandoned him, we will have to find him a permanent home." He was saying. Ryan searched for the mans name card and when he found it, asked.   
  
"Dr. Kenard, what do you think is the most possible?" Merric Kenard's face turned grave for a moment, then he forced neutrality onto it.   
  
"Well, if you think about it logically, then I think my last statement. Most do not kidnap a baby to hurt it. They usual ask ransom or else they are people who can not have children. If a child is hurt, I think it was abandoned." He sighed, and glanced at the nursery.   
  
"How do you find temporary homes? Or in the event of needing it- permanent ones?" Elisabeth asked eagerly, yet at the same time grave. The Doctor regarded her for a moment, then said.   
  
"We look up foster family's that could take in the child. That family must have proper training, but otherwise" He shrugged half heartedly. "You just hope the child doesn't get tossed from house to house."   
  
He took a sip go the luke warm coffee he had been swirling, and when Elisabeth opened her mouth to say something he gazed up at her, coffee forgotten.   
  
"Ryan and I thought of adopting once, we took all the necessary training, could we..." She let her voice trail off. The Doctor was smiling.   
  
"It's not my place to say, but I could put in a good word to the Mrs. Kenard, who I think is the person who is checking on the child." A grin had settling on his face, and Elisabeth realized that the name was not a coincidence. "I am sure when I tell her how you brought the child in, and found him. Not to mention how he would not let go of Mr. Mcclain's shirt when he came in, she would be very happy to look into your request."   
  
Hogwarts same day.  
  
Green eyes opened to the world for the first time in fourteen years, and then they shut only moments later. The light, even as dim as it was, shot through Lily Potter's eyes, and gave her a brief headache.  
She forced them to stay open the next time she dared to move.   
  
Her whole body was numb, like one gets when they sit on there foot to long. Gazing at the ceiling, she guessed she was in the hospital. _Why?_ She didn't remember James or her doing anything dangerous for Dombledore- they had been to busy...   
Lily shut her eyes tightly, for reasons not of light but of memories, suddenly realizing what had happened.   
_  
  
Were was Harry? Were was James? _ She wanted to know, but could not force her tight throat to speak. She wanted to turn her head, but it felt as though it were glass, and would break at the movement. _Were was her baby?_   
  
Being not able to move, feeling helpless and unsure, Lily let tears flow to her eyes. Even though she could not bring her sore hands to rub them away. Someone must have heard the soft tears, for a warm hand was wiping them away.  
  
"Shhh, its okay now. Its all over Lily, he's gone." The hand gripped her own, and she found her self able to grip her husbands hand back.   
  
"James, were's Harry?" She asked desperately after he had helped her to sit up, and had handed her a drink. He did not answer for a long moment, merely stared solemnly down at his folded hands. Even as he said the words, they were as soft as he could make them audible.   
  
"They didn't find him." The soft tone did not subtle Lily's reaction. She put her head in her hands and wept, chanting softly about her child. How he had died even when she had tried, so desperately and so in vain, to protect him.   
  
Her emotions changed quickly when they did though, and for the sharper. Lily's chanting, still soft beneath her breath, was now cursing Voldemort. James sat by her side, and told her of the search party out to find him, of all the people looking.   
  
And that was when they both heard the loud, disagreeing shouts coming from just outside the infirmary door.


	5. Forgotten, and remembered

Disclaimer: refer to chapter 1  
  
Author's Note: I guess I still haven't upheld that longer chapter thing, huh? But I promise, I will really I will. Even though no one had ever read it, I would like to say, I have reach 200 hundred pages in my Novel. In small, small text, might I add. I hope to get it published.   
  
Anyway, I think I got Ron's character correct, but point out the wrongs if I did not. Hermione does not speak much in this chapter, but she will soon. And I forgot to say last time, I do not live in England, so I am relying on Americas system for child rights and foster parents. And even then I am stretching it.   
All recommendations are taken in for consideration. I welcome all...right I am rambling.  
  
On with the story.   
  
"Let us see him, you can't hide him from us." Shouted the first, and James could hear the Headmasters soft voice assuring the other that they were not hiding his friend.  
  
"Headmaster, we heard about the attack." This voice was a girl, James could tell at least this, and the first had been a teenage boys. The next words that came out of the the girls lips, sent James staggering to the door and pulling it open so fiercely that the two children and Dumbledore on the other side, jumped.   
  
And even now he was not sure what they were. Something of 'Is Harry alright? I understand if you don't want anyone to know, but he's Harry to us, not Harry Potter.' She had said, and he had heard her fear, her fear of death.   
  
The red headed child to the left of the girl, who had bushy hair, stammered for words. He nearly called James; Harry, but he had stopped himself. "Who the bloody hell are you! Dumbledore's idea of a cover up!" He shouted, and James winced at the pure unbridled anger that rose in his voice.  
  
"My names James." He offered, but it did nothing to calm the teens anger- if anything it intensified it.  
  
"James huh? Of bloody great, take on his dead fathers name why don't you, _Death Eater_. Is this Voldemort's new idea, try to get Harry to trust an impostor that looks like his dead father, back from the dead. Well he wont, he'll be right furious. Go tell your Master that!" The Headmaster had a resigned appearance about him, as if he thought it best to just let the lad wear the steam out.   
  
"Are you done Mr. Weasley?" The boy went to disagree, but James beat him to it.   
  
"Harry? Harry Potter is that who you were talking about." The girl nodded slowly, staring at him in puzzlement. "But Harry's only one." James rubbed his temples, and the girls eyes changed to worry. "I don't understand." The Headmaster went to remind James of what they had talked about. "I know, I know, I just keep forgetting." He said, as Albus opened his mouth.   
  
HOSPITAL- SAME DAY, AND TIME.  
  
He smiled, as Elizabeth picked him up. And tugged at her dark red curls, giggling. He bounced in her arms, and she smiled, flattening his unruly hair with the other hand.   
  
"Hey little one." She said, sitting him down on her lap. "How are you?" He giggled again, reaching for her neckless.   
"Oh no you don't" She said, gentle pulling his hands from the chain. "It doesn't taste that good anyway, I promise." The boy stopped squirming for a moment, and stared up at her.   
  
Regarding her in a way no baby, Elizabeth knew, could.   
  
Elisabeth pulled away from that stare, to look to the Doctor as he flipped a page in the child's chart. His wife was switching her attention between Dr. Kenard's explanation of the child's injuries, and of Elisabeth as she played with the child. Ryan's full attention was on the Doctors words, but he would smile at the baby every once and awhile, or make an amusing face.   
  
"So he has how many scars?" Mrs. Kenard asked, glancing at the chart.   
  
"Four, including the small one on his forehead."   
  
Yes I know I'm evil for stopping here, but I had to. I just had to, I am evil. No not really its just 2 a.m in the morning, and I have school. My eyes are lead, falling down. I cant keep them open.   
  
Anyway, Wiccan PussyKat that small scar on his forehead is Harry Potters trade mark. He still has it! Thank you for putting me on your favorite list.   
  
Mickeymoose, thank you, it has been brewing for sometime. Yes they came back from the spell, and Harry is a child because... well Dumbledore will explain later. I can't go ruining his speech can I? No I could not take any of his speech away, I am not that evil.  
  
Bonebiddy, it is nice that everyone came back, and turns everything more complicated, urg. I was wondering, what does RL mean? Thank you for commenting.   
  
I think I did everyone who had a question I could, without ruining the whole plot, answer. If I did not answer, feel free to yell at me in your review.   
For those who have read my other story, (which no one had I am sure. But it makes me feel nice to put these things in.) I will be updating it. 


	6. At One He Defeated The Dark Lord

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A.N I have a few note for this chapter. One, as Hermione's scene goes, there will be one for Ron, but I think it will take him another 24 hours to let any other thoughts besides that this James is an impostor in. Italic and bold Italic are thoughts.   
Two, I know the scene between Lily and James is strand. It is poorly written, and I know that. My only excuse is that I am still building on their characteristics, we do not hear much about them in the books. I think they will become more well rounded.  
Three, I know it is short, but it is longer then the others. I have to get passed the introductions of the Potters, before it really starts out. Look at it this way, at least I'm updating frequently.  
  
Um, I made a few mistakes on the past chapter, but I want to point out that I will be rewriting and to point out.   
I just reread my chapters and I noticed that I said James had blue eyes, and in the 5th book they said hazel. Sorry I'll be fixing it, and referring to them as hazel from now on.   
I have a request! Please visit my Livejournal page. I only have one entry up now, but I think it would be a good place to discus ideas for the story, were I can respond more accurately.   
As always, I love well written reviews.  
  
Disclaimer: see chapter one.  
  
  
  
moonshadowed: Don't worry, I'm hooked too, and about Snapes reaction; I can't wait to write it.   
  
blubb-blubb: Thank you. And I cant answer for you when he will be found. I will not be with in a week, let me put it that way.  
  
Wiccan PussyKat:  First I would like to say that I enjoy your reviews, they are always well rounded. I am sorry it was short, that is one of my faults, though I am glad you thought it well written.   
No it could not be a Harry Potter fanfiction with out them. I'm glad to hear I got Ron's character right. I was really worried about writing him, he's so unpredictable. This chapter should begin to quench your thirst for Hermione. I liked the line too, and it was one of the few that stayed from the original draft.   
That misspelling is way embarrassing, I'll go back and fix it soon, and I will fix the coma mistake too. Thank you for the help, and complements.   
  
Lily Skylo: I am glad you enjoyed it. Yes that is another reaction I am itching to write.   
  
ERMonkey, Queen of Insanity: Here is your wish, hope you enjoy it.  
  
Alyssa: *checks pulse* I'm still alive phew, I was worried there for a moment.   
  
Natural Anthem: Wow I have succeeded in getting you to hope, I'm taking it that that's good? I hope you enjoy this chapter.   
  
_  
Now, on with the show.  
  
  
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It was night, Hermione could see that from the dormitories window. She glanced at the moon, seeing its thin form, and thought absently that Professor Lupin had just had his transformation maybe three days ago. It was amusing how she registered that, even when her mind was jumbled with so many other thoughts.   
  
_That man, was he really a Death Eater like Ron suggested? _   
  
_Why would one of Voldemort's servants say Harry was one?   
  
_ Hermione's mind would not stop auguring with itself, it was giving her a pounding headache.   
**_To make us think just that?_** It said, and she had to agree. If a person had come in and just claimed he was James Potter it would have been easy for her to except he was a Death Eater, but he had thought Harry a baby. He had rushed through those doors like he was trying to save his son. Perhaps it was also the way he seemed to forget what Dumbledore had told him. _He didn't try to make friends with us._   
**_  
But he didn't ask for names either.   
  
_**_Maybe he was to confused, maybe he was more worried about his son. _   
  
**_Perhaps.  
_**  
Hermione really wished she could just flop into bed, and fall asleep. _I know I'll have nightmares. _ She told herself gazing at her bed in disappointment.   
She turned back to the sky, it seemed more peaceful. More alluring to her muddled mind.   
_  
He listened to Dombledore.   
_  
Hermione would think back later on when she had started to defend this maybe-impostor. But that would be after she fell asleep on the window seat, after her dream that was only jumbled with more thoughts, and after she had been rudely awaken by Ginny Weasley.  
  
It would be at breakfast, as she stared at the seat that Harry usual sat in.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
HOSPITAL ROOM  
  
Lily had been the first one to come up with the solution of finding something out about Harry.   
"You said they said it as he was well know. And you said Dombledore said he survived?"   
James had nodded, but had not stopped pacing. He remembered once that Sirius said his habit would end up wearing his floor in the family room so thin that he would fall through it, but James tried to shake the past away.   
_He had to stay in reality _  
"Well lets say he is well known, _James! James listen to me will you! _ Then maybe he has an article in some newspaper."   
James was nodding, but he was not listening.   
"Dumbledore will send a house elf to check on us. And as long as we agree to eat, they'll get me what ever I want. Including books."   
A house elf had come, and it had gladly gotten her history books.   
  
Now it was morning, and Lily was still reading through them, while James slept in a chair, book spread open on his lap.   
_   
I did sleep a whole day more then him. _   
And Lily let him sleep. If she had still had her wand, she would have done a searching spell, but she did not, so she was stuck with scanning. Three books later, and she had found a sentence that started with Harry Potter.   
She read it quickly.  
  
"Harry Potter at one year of age, defeated the Dark Lord."   
The book fell slack from her fingers, and dropped to the floor; awakening James with a jerk. As James opened one hazel eye, just enough to see what had woken him up, he was met with his wife, a frozen expression of shock on her face. His own book fell to the floor as he jumped up to check what was wrong. James leaned forward, trying to hear his wife's quiet words.  
"Defeated him, defeated him. How, how does one defeat him?"   
  
The identity of this man confused James for a long moment, until he thought to pick up the book Lily had been reading. He scanned the page, and when he reached the sentence that had caused Lily's whispers, he placed the book beside his wife, hands moving stiffly.   
  
James was amazed how calm he stayed, but that was before he reached the hospital doors, and realized they were locked. His calm only slipped further as he began to bang on the doors, demanding at the top of his lungs to be let out, and it was only then that he also realized that if Dumbledore did not want them let out, he would have placed silencing charms on the room.   
  
_No one could hear them._  
  
  
  
HERMIONE- CHARMS CLASS.  
  
It was the first time in her life, that Hermione could not listen in class, and it was the first time that she remembered Ron paying attention. _It was only to keep his mind from things_, Hermione told herself.   
  
No one seemed to think much of Harry's absence from class, and Hermione wondered, if before she had made it down to breakfast Dumbledore had falsified that Harry was in the hospital Wing.   
  
_He didn't say he's dead, it would only be for public sanity_. But the words, the explanation that she gave herself, did not ease her worry.   
  
Surely the Headmaster would tell them if their best friend was dead?   
  
_We're not the public, he's just Harry to us._ But, still, she was not sure. The old man sometimes had such a reluctance to be forthcoming with the truth.   
  
"And what is the Latin word for water?" Professor Flitwick was saying, but Hermione did not even bother to raise her hand. At the moment answering the question, or even taking notes did not matter to her. Another first.   
  
At the end of class Flitwick asked Hermione to stay behind. Ron glanced back at her, but Hermione urged him on. The professor turned to Hermione.   
"I didn't see you writing notes, or raising your hand to answer a question. A few of which I was left to answer myself. It is very unlike you Miss Granger, are you feeling alright?"  
  
Hermione nodded stiffly, some how words seemed beyond her now. The professor did not push, but Hermione now knew that Dumbledore had indeed told the staff and students a lie that morning. Flitwick would have told her it would be alright, and would have handed both Ron and Hermione passes for homework.  
  
Now she was afraid for her friends life; now it was real.  
  
  
  
  
_Acta est fabula:_ Drama has been acted out.  
  
_These words announced the end of a performance in a Roman theatre._


	7. Plans at midnight

A.N: Hello back again, with more notes on the chapter. First, Ronald Weasley finally gets his chapter. Again I will say that I am not that sure of his character, so I'm not that sure I got it right.   
Second, I think Hermione would do something like that, right? She's planned it out much better then Ron, but I always pictured Ron as being a little to quick thinking, and rushing into things. I always pictured Hermione as being rule abiding, unless it comes to helping her friends. Then she's willing to do anything.   
Third, Its still short, I know. Ack! I am really bad at waiting to upload. I swear I'll try, but it will take me longer ot update.   
  
Guess what I'm reading? Harry Potter in Latin! It's very good, had anyone else read it?   
  
Wiccan PussyKat, Thanks, I tried to communicate their difference in opinions. Thanks again, yeah if I were in her place I would drop the book to. Yeah, the house elf brought them an older book, so they really don't understand what the world does yet. It will be interesting if she does.   
Dumbledore's not sure, he thinks he's alive, but he can't find him. So he's told everyone that he's in the hospital room.   
Ack, I was reading an noticed that, thanks.  
  
ERMonkey, Queen of Insanity: Here it is.  
  
Natural Anthem: No one knows that Voldemort is dead yet, the ministry is keeping it secret. And if you'll notice all the Auror's that did the search, belong to the Order.  
  
Eric2: Thank you.  
  
  
Kateydidnt: Yes! I've been waiting for someone to guess that! Yeah, this chapter is dedicated to you. 100 points to you Kateydidnt, for getting it right. His memories are blurry those, like dreams you half remember.  
  
On with the story.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ronald Weasley fell into a fitful night on the third day of his friend absence. Perhaps he was stubborn, he could agree with that, and perhaps he never strayed far from his original ideas, weather they were right or wrong. But he missed his friend, and it was easier to blame it on that man that had the same features as Harry.   
  
If he was Harry's father, then I just insulted him. If he is James Potter- Ron shook his head, he needed facts. He was not going to let Harry get hurt more when he came back. He was coming back, Ron was sure.   
  
Suddenly Ron had a brilliant idea of were to start on these facts; Harry's trunk. His friend wouldn't mind him looking in it, and the other boys in the room could sleep through anything. Even if one woke up, they would think he was getting something to bring to Harry in the hospital room in the morning. Yes he was safe doing it.   
  
Slowly he crawled to the end of his bed, and opened his trucks lids from on top the bed. He winced as the hinges creaked, but it made no difference, the quiet, content rise and fall of his dormates continued. He pulled out a pair of socks and a cloak; the last he planed to use later, and stepped out of bed with his now socked feet.  
  
Ron tiptoed to Harry's bed, and opened his trunk. School robes were on top, and as Ron peeled that layer away he found Harry's to-big cloths. He dug further, feeling for a books edge. A thick book, with pictures in it.   
  
Ron had seen it before, had seen Harry's father and mother staring back from the pages. It's the first step to seeing if its one of Voldemort's men. He thought, as his fingers brushed the side of a book.   
  
Ron brought it up, and opened the fist page of the photo album. Lily and James Potter were staring back, Harry as a one year old snuggled close to them.   
  
The man looked like James...but there's a charm for that. Or, knowing Voldemort maybe he saved some of James's hair.  
  
Ron shuttered, and as he did so his head turned back to the trunk. He had disordered the contents, and what had been at the bottom was now on top. Ron's eye caught onto Harry's invisibility cloak. Without a rational thought, he grabbed it, and opened the door into the hallway.   
  
Ron found himself standing at the bottom of the girls stairway, before he began to hesitate. His half thought out plan did not seem that good, but there was no turning back now. He had already woken up Hermione.   
  
She had not been in her dorm, but in the common room bent over homework. Ron sent a pointed glance at the writing, as if to say, how can you do homework at this time. Hermione rolled it up, and smiled sadly at him.   
  
"It's Harry's, I figured I would catch him up so when they find him, he's not piled with work." Ron's features softened, and he lifted the invisibility cloak as if it explain everything. It seemed to explain enough to Hermione.  
  
Later Ron would wonder if she had been waiting for him, if she had guessed that he would do something like this. It would seem possible when he thought about it, but that did not cross his mind at the moment.   
  
Hermione was giving him a stiff brisk nod, and she lifted a small, silver key. Ron stared at it in confusion.   
  
"Its the key to the room that man is in. It's locked, and has a silencing charm on it. I stole the key when I pretended to have a breakdown in front of Poppy, and replaced it with another identical one, that I copied. She won't notice, I made it so both opened the door, but the one I gave her disappears in a week, just so we don't end up having the chance of this one being found."  
  
Ron nodded his head, silently scolding himself for not thinking of that himself. "You seemed to be think about this awhile."   
  
Hermione sighed, and tucked the key in her pocket. "I can't sleep, but Ron? You have to realize what were doing. Were going to be in room with a maybe Death Eater, someone who could kill us."  
  
Ron went a shade whiter, but did not react further. He grunted, planting his feet firmly on the ground. "I won't let him kill us."   
  
Hermione was smiling in concealed laughter, as she repacked all the books that had been spread on the table. She rolled up the parchments, that had held her noted, and blew on the one the report she had been writing before she rolled it up.   
  
When at last she turned around to him, the books, parchment, and pen were all in her school bag, sitting on the table. The bag would arouse no curiosity, for many student left their homework downstairs.   
"Lets go." She said, and started off to the door.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
HOSPITAL ROOM -- EARLIER  
  
After finding that the door was locked, and slamming on it for an hour, James had finally quite. It was not that he didn't trust Dumbledore, he trusted the man with his life, but he found it frightening that the man thought he needed to lock them in a room. And the thought that it might be for his own good, did not sound any better to James.  
  
Lily was asleep, rightly so as it was past midnight, but James was still at the doors, back towards them as he sat. He was so puzzled; what little Dumbledore had told him, seemed so confusing by itself. He needed to know more, and he could as no one.   
  
They were not in the main hospital wing, that James knew; because he had been a frequent student seen it that part of the building. He banged his head lightly against his knees, feeling defenseless.   
  
Hours must have passed by before James heard anything in the hallway beyond the doors. It was a small shuffle, he realized as he cupped his ear to the door. There was no talking, but the person shuffling was being deliberately careful to muffle the steps.  
  
  
There was a sound of something scraping then clicking, and before James realized it, the door opened with his head at it. He cursed under his breath, and rubbed his forehead, glancing at the people who had entered.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
RYAN AND ELIZABETH'S HOUSE  
  
Three days had passed since Ryan had found the one year old child in the woods, and four hours had passed since he and Elizabeth had been able to bring him home. The police were looking into missing children, but had found nothing so far.   
  
The child was sleeping in the nursery that Elizabeth had been preparing for the new baby. But as Ryan went in one more time to check on him, he found the child holding onto the cribs railing, smiling at him.   
  
Slowly Ryan approached, feeling unsure as he picked the baby up. It felt strange to be holding him. He remember Elizabeth asking Mrs. Kenard what they should call him. She had told them to call him nicknames, things that parents would have called the child without knowing his name.   
  
So the child had adopted the name 'sweetie'. Only for a week, Ryan thought, and if they don't find your parents by then, they told us to think up a name.   
  
"Now see here, I think we should be calling you something more boyish, hmm? Like kiddo, do you like that?" The baby responded by pulling his hair, Ryan laughed.  
  
"I'll take that as a yes." Ryan settled down on the rocking chair that sat near the crib. The baby grabbed at his glasses, but Ryan gentle took them back.   
  
"Your a little blurry blob if I don't have those." The child giggled, reaching for them again. Ryan leaned back his head, smiling teasingly at the baby.   
  
"You can't reach them now." He crooned, grinning down at the infant. The baby pouted for a moment, then snuggled into his lap and went to sleep. Ryan was fascinated by the weight on his chest, and slept on the chair himself, worried he would wake the infant up if he moved.


	8. Truce

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
ERMonkey, Queen of Insanity, I found it at the bookstore, in the Latin section. Were the language programs were, its cover looks exactly like the original, but the words on it are in latin.  
  
  
Wiccan PussyKat: Well for this one, short and soon, won, but it could be different next time. I'm starting to enjoy writing Ron, you don't really have to organize the writing, but I like writing Hermione more, because she's more like me. Oh! You guessed it before I gave a hint. Clever, clever. He didn't realize he had it either, until he felt the weight while he was walking to the room. I know, but it seemed like him.  
Ack, I have diluted what I think someone would actually go though if this happened. Oh Kiddo will be in the family for more then a week, but they'll find him before he would get a Hogwarts letter.   
It's not that bad, I'm home schooled and I'm doing this program call Power Glide, and it teaches you more conversations stuff. I can speak latin.   
  
Lady Arwen of Rivendell, eeks, he'll be with them for a while.  
  
Danca, once I get through with the interductions, and adoption it will be speeding up.  
  
Eric2, I'm starting to realize that people really do read the author note. I thought I was strange for reading them, but now I don't feel so left out. Thank you for the complement.   
  
ON WITH THE STORY.  
  
Ever since he had woken up that first day, he had suffered from a pounding headache. After the first day was over he had been able to calm it, and seclude it to a ignorable prickle, but now; however, it returned to full power. Perhaps beyond what it had been, but to some extent, that could be explained by the door hitting his head.  
  
Fleetingly, James glanced at his wife, she stirred but did not wake, then he turned to the two people, or perhaps he should have said, students, that had banged him unknowingly on the head.   
  
  
If he had his glass on correctly, he might have recognized them as the teens that had known Harry, but the only part of them that was in correct view, was their feet.   
  
  
James corrected the glasses, which had pulled off one ear, and were holding oddly to the bridge of his nose. The faces came into view, and he recognized them.   
  
"Hello." He said quietly, hoping, as he recalled the red head's out burst, that they would continue in his volume. Silence was the only reining sound, and James had a feeling, by the girls glances at the bed, that Lily was awake. She knew to pretend, no need to get them both killed if these were Death Eaters in disguise.   
  
  
"How did you break the charms?" He asked, trying to distract them from noticing his wife. The girl eyed him for a moment, then lifted a small key. "Ah, the key always works."   
  
  
She nodded, studying him in a matter that made him wonder if she was comparing him to something. The red head made a jerky movement with his hand, and the invisibility cloak he had been carrying, spilled to the floor. He bent down, but kept his eyes on James, rummaging through the fabric for something; finally he found it, and pulled out a scroll.   
  
"If your James Potter, then you would know what this was." He waved the scroll around like a person waves a wand when it won't do the spell they've commanded.  
  
"You'd have to hold it still." The teen looked angry, as if he were already taking a risk by showing it to him, then slowly, he stopped the swishing. James eyed it, feeling that this would be his one chance to ensure neither his wife nor he would be hurt. He reached his hand out for it, and after the brown, bushy haired girl had nodded, handed it to him.   
  
  
He was reluctant to let it go though.  
  
  
At last James had it in his hand, and he opened it. It was blank, but James already knew what it was, and he was grinning. "Why its the Marauder map! "   
  
The two shared a glance, and the boy seemed to give him a look that suggested he believe James had just heard this somewhere. James smiled apologetically at the two. "I have no idea were you got this from, but I think I'm right when I say, you want me to open it."   
  
  
Both nodded, but did not speak, and James rerolled the scroll. The teen boy had taken out his wand, as if this proved he were there enemy. "I don't have a wand, I can't."  
  
  
The girl nodded, and said. "I guess the Headmaster would be reluctant to give you a wand."   
  
  
James wanted to ask how she knew this, if she knew why he would be. He wanted also, to tell her that Albus had never been reluctant to give there wands back when they had been taken to Hogwarts after a raid before. But he did not get the chance for his tongue to loosen, before she was continuing.   
  
"I mean, pray if I'm wrong, but it might be he does not trust you." She bent down a bit, eyes suddenly showing with such intense determination that James lowed his own gaze. "I certainty am reluctant to trust you."  
  
  
She was examine him with that comparing regard again, and the boy was nodding beside him.   
  
  
"If you are not James Potter, and you hurt Harry; you will regret it." James snapped his head to the boy now, and made a motion to stand.   
  
He was aware of his wife's hand helping him up, and turned to watch as she stood beside him, regarding the girl and boy just as much intensely.   
  
"I am sorry you do not believe our identities. We do not want to hurt Harry." She gave the girl a sorrow filled smile, and continued. "Tell me, why would I give my life for a child I later intended to hurt?"   
  
  
  
There was unimaginable pain in that smile, and Hermione found her reluctance almost slipping away. Stop being foolish Hermione, your not going to let her fool you this easily are you?  
  
Hermione glanced at her friend, he had opened the Marauders map, and activated it. He kept swallowing, tracing something on the map with his finger. Feeling his friends gaze he turned to her and whispered. "Can you fool the map, Hermione?"   
  
  
When Hermione glanced over his shoulder, she saw four names grouped together, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, Lily Potter, and James Potter.  
The James- or what the map confused as James- was smiling at them as she looked to him. He must have guessed from their expressions, what the map read.  
  
"There's no way to fool it. We copied Dumbledore's method on finding first years, and finding their names. No one can fool it." Ron raised both eye brows, leaned his head toward the man, and said,   
"Not even your Lord."   
  
The question had been mainly to judge the mans character, to see how he reacted, and Ron was proud of himself for thinking of an insult that helped. The man, who Ron was beginning to think of as James Potter more and more, reacted as Ron fancied Harry might if ever confronted with such a question.  
  
First he jerked, then a grimace came to his face, one of such potent displease it could have tied with one of Severus Snape's. Finally a glint of what Ron identified as an old spark of the Marauders spirit; something Ron had seen a few times in Sirus's eyes, and would have seen more often if not for the Dementors...  
  
  
Ron stopped his rambling train of thought, and tried again to focus on the man in front of him. His eyes were glittering.   
  
  
"My Lord...you mean my Master?" Ron had a sinking feeling in his stomach; was he really in a room with a Death Eater? The man was sickeningly cheerful for someone Ron was now sure was going to kill him. "You must mean Albus Dumbledore, though he hardly ever had us calling him my Lord, or such."  
  
  
Ron had expected the man to pull out a wand from his robes sleeve, one he had hidden, or, have his face suddenly turn into Voldemort's, red eyes gleaming; Ron had not expected him to be smiling, even trying to conceal laughter.   
  
  
  
He was at a lose for words, Hermione apparently; however, was not. "That's not something to joke about!"   
  
The woman was sighing, nodding in agreement, and in an attempt to somber his features the man stopped laughing, and began forcing his head to mimic his partners slow nods.   
  
  
"Your right, I'm terribly sorry. You must have been frightened; thinking you were in a room with two Death Eaters, but Sirus used to joke about that, and Severus, what did he used to say..." His voice trailed off at the woman's pointed glare. Hermione guessed it was something about Severus being a spy, common knowledge to Hermione Ron and Harry, but probably not something one went around joking about.  
Although it could have been a joke in there time, with other order members, Hermione found herself realizing, all of them must have, to an extent trusted each other, and if war was your job, if it was all you lived, then did one not find some fun in even horrifying things to make them more expectable to see daily.  
  
  
"So have we agreed that none are here to hurt? And that our names are our rightful ones?" One reluctant nod came from both, and Lily was almost sure he could the girl mutter beneath hier breath.   
"For now." Lily did not comment on that, unwilling to backtrack on the new understanding they had achieved.   
  
"My name is Lily Potter, this is James Potter, what are yours." She already knew that they knew both her and James's names, but she felt as if she had to got he motions.   
  
  
"Hermione Granger, and this is Ron Weasley." That was when the truce began.  



	9. A Fools Battle

A.N: Alright, I'm going to try something, and everyone is going to tell me if its alright. I'm, going to switch to morning and Ryan and Elisabeth's house, and then switch back to night with James and Lily Potter. You tell me if it interrupts the flow to much, okay?   
  
I think I might have spelled Azkaban wrong, if you know the proper spelling that would be helpful, I don't have the third book handy right at the moment.   
I updated my LJ; this entry is less pathetic then the first.   
  
Another request: could people give me an idea on how fast they want Harry found. I don't mean age, because I know that already, but do you want him found in the next 5 or 10 chapters. And, what kind of insight do you want into his life with Ryan and Elisabeth; yes he will be stay with them for at least a few years. Make the story all the more emotional and torturing.   
Thanks, reviews always help.   
  
Lady Arwen of Rivendell: Your first question I can not answer, thank you for reassuring me you sill enjoy it. No, there will be no tracking charm, not that works anyway.   
  
Athenakitty: Yes, James and Lily are real, and yes they will find Harry. Harry will live with parents, I am not at liberty to name which ones.   
  
Eric2: yes it is much easier when they are on speaking terms.  
  
  
Wiccan PussyKat: hmm, as of yet you are the most amusing to answer. Hugging might be a bit far in estimations at this point, and a family too, but it will come. Kiddo yes, that will be a heavy issue on every ones minds, huh?  
Hehe, I surprise myself. Thank you for the compliment.   
It would have been stooped him down to Crabbe's level, huh? No he remembered, but he forgot to use it while there were in the halls.   
  
If I had used anything else to explain it I think it would have ended up being to long, drawn out, and boring. But I remembered muggle borns and Dumbledore sending them letters, and how Hagrid had said that Harry had been on the list since he was born...right I'm rambling again.  
  
Short yes, they seem to be my style for a while. It is much easier to start with a new chapter, it allows you to show other characters reactions to the same thing, if you know what I mean. And I am encouraged, not discouraged by a blank page, strange, eh? I hope this chapter satisfies you in the Harry area.  
The search will be starting soon, very. But Lupin and Sirus must meet James and Lily, and they all have to get there wands back. I think by the tenth chapter, sound alright?  
Yes I picture Ron as a very loyal friend.  
  
Latin huh, alright here is a basic one. One I learned first. Its a good conversation piece too.  
  
_Loqueris Latine?_  
And another: _Aliquis hic loquitur Latine?  
_Those are simple enough.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Sirus Black had always been someone who had a problem with waiting. He wanted to rush into thing, and Azkaban had help none of this. The mood swings between suddenly depressed to as cheerful as someone with his past could be- did not help the people who dealt with his daily either.   
  
  
"I want to see him Dumbledore." He said threateningly to the Headmaster, as Remus shook his head in silent disapproval behind him.   
Sirus could feel his frustration building; four times Albus had offered him lemon drops, and if he did it again Sirus was going to knock the jar out of the mans hand.   
  
  
That was not the end of it, the Headmaster had the twinkle in his eyes, and was looking over his half moon spectacles in a humerus way. Which sent the alarms in Sirus's head blaring at there full volume. He was halting Sirus from seeing James because he knew something was going to happen; he was letting something happen.   
  
  
Sirus often wondered if the Headmaster was entertained by students, because he only seemed to interject if someone was going to surely die....  
  
  
Yet, if Sirus gazed close enough, that meant taking the time to stand still, he could see the dark clouds drifting in the old mans eyes as well. He was still worried about Harry.   
  
  
Sirus Black shook his head, forcing his thoughts away from his godson, and onto his now alive father. "Tomorrow, Sirus. In the morning, but not tonight."  
  
  
Dejectedly, he flopped down on to one of the chairs. Only out of sheer exhaustion was he excepting the Headmasters words. He wanted to say so much to James; wanted to apologize for everything. If Harry died...he didn't know what he would do.   
  
  
Caring for the child, the hope that one day he would be free, and that Harry had wanted to live with him, had been one of the only things that had kept him going. That he might have had a chance to redeem himself for killing James and Lily. If that hope left...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
MCCLAIN'S HOUSE- NEXT MORNING.   
  
  
Ryan awoke to the soft glow of dawn, as it filtered through the open curtains in the nursery. His chest was heavy, and he went to stretch his arms, but stopped as he heard the soft breathing of the child.   
  
  
He smiled softly, caressing the boys cheek, only to find that those remarkable green eyes were already open; staring at him in sleepy focus. The baby reached for his face as he realized he was no longer the only awake, and giggled as his hand slid off Ryan's chin.  
  
  
Slowly Ryan stood from the rocking chair, cradling the child to his chest. As he moved to the crib he hesitated; what had Elisabeth said about children in the morning?   
Feeding.   
  
Ryan bounced the child in his arms as he walked to the kitchen. "I suppose its good were already expecting, huh?"   
  
The child did not answer, but Ryan almost thought he understood.   
  
"And, that Elisabeth has already bought everything; I guess she thinks then she can't miscarriage..." Ryan let his voice trail off as he placed the infant in the highchair, and went to the cupboard to get some formula.   
  
_If she looses that baby, and then we loose you, Kiddo, I don't know what will happen. _ But Ryan was sure they wouldn't loose the little boy. He forced himself to measure out the powder, and to place the cold formula into the microwave.   
  
The baby was giggling as brought the bottle over to him, and grabbed at it enthusiastically. Ryan was holding it for the baby, but the child soon swatted away his hand.   
  
"Hey, you can hold it by yourself!" He praised, and realized he was not sure if that was a big step for a one year old, or if he was praising something that was not something special. He continued to grin anyway, laughing as the child offered him some of the milk.   
  
"Oh no, you need that more than me, but thank you very much." The child seemed to consider the words for a moment, then drank the mink.   
  
It was at this time that Ryan realized his wife was watching him from the door frame. The newspaper was already in her hands, and she was already dressed; she had been watching him for a long while.   
  
"I saw you this morning, but I didn't want to wake him." She said, as she noticed his gaze, he nodded turning back to the child. He was attempting to take off his bib, even going as far as to use the bottle as a lever.   
  
It was not working.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
HOSPITAL WING- THE NIGHT BEFORE.   
  
  
  
  
Hermione had transformed four books into chairs, and they had sat down- facing each other.   
  
  
The charm to make the chairs had been easy for Hermione, yet, just as she had found in first year with Quidditch; no spell could have helped the silence that filled the room. Her school grades made it no easier for her to know how to talk to people she had believed dead.   
  
  
Ron was shifting in his chair, Lily was stacking the remaining books beside her, and James was twiddling his thumbs, grinning at every one else's distress.   
  
  
"So, anyone play Quidditch?" James asked, grinning even wider, because he could imagine Lily's disapproving frown. Ron seemed to jump on it, and Hermione also seemed to feel as if there was hope in that question.   
  
  
"Harry got on the Quidditch team in first year, best seeker ever!" Said Ron, and Hermione was beginning to wonder if Ron's impulsiveness had finally found its use. James was smiling proudly, but Lily was groaning.   
  
  
"How many times has he fallen?" She asked worriedly, glancing over to Hermione. Perhaps she thought the young girl was the least likely to lie.   
  
  
"Aw, come one Lily, I fell plenty of times. I'm just fine. What I want to know is what house he's in. Your not wearing school robes, but you don't seem much like the Slytherin type." Ron was shaking his head fiercely, waving a dismissive hand.   
  
"Nope Gryffindor, all three of us..." Ron's hand fell limply to his lap, realizing his friend was not there to point to. Lily and Hermione gave him encouraging looks, though Lily's seemed more oblivious; as if she didn't really know why her son was not there.  
  
Shakily, Ron tried to bring up the smile that had been spread broadly across his face before, but it came back small and strained. James even stopped appearing so cheerful, something he seemed good at, and lowered his head staring at his hands. The rooms temperature seemed to drop to zero as James's next words left his lips.   
  
"I tried to stop him, but it was a fools battle, he'd killed so many times he didn't even hesitate as he drew his wand, and he only laughed as the green light..."   



	10. Whispers

A.N: I'm not really sure if Harry ever told Hermione what happens when Dementor's come near him, but in my story he did. Okay I did as promised, I started the search. I'm sorry, I just loved Sirus's words as an ending. They seemed so appropriate. I'll get the next part out soon. I'm off the first page anyway, it is not as if I am going to get further reviews.   
  
  
  
Athenakitty: Um, soon, but not within two chapters. Mine are very short if you've noticed :). Location clues? I'll keep that in mind, thanks. Walking? Yes, I'll make sure to do that. I think I will have to look up what should be happening at one years of age.  
  
  
  
Wiccan PussyKat: Hehe, I made the search start, but by my appoligy in the Auther note, you can see I just started it. Sorry!  
Correct! The next one is, "Anyone (or someone) here speak latin?"   
Thanks, I'll try to calm down. Hmm.. That should take place very soon. Yeah, I guess I did do that huh? Subconsciously anyway. I like it though. I had to add Quidditch, you just know that would be the fist thing that came out of there mouths. I mean remember in the 5th book how James had stolen a Snitch? Quiddich freaks indeed!   
Thanks I like that one two.  
That was a kind of frightening moment for Ron, you know? I think it was the point at which he really began to realize what was happening.   
That sentence, just came to me. I mean we don't really hear a lot about what happens to James while Lily is upstairs, but he is just as traumatized as his wife.   
I rounded it off nicely didn't I. Same way in this chapter to...  
  
Kateydidnt: Little things I guess, you have to remember that right now, he knows in some way that these people are Muggles... The memories will get more blurry as he gets older.  
  
  
Eric2: I wonder who did invent the cliff hanger? Wonderful, they are easier to write with to. No, no, I must have done something wrong or confusing. Harry is trying to take off his own bib, and he can't get it off. Thank you.  
  
  
Lily Skylo: Interesting, and that's an understatement. I think it will be a bit long. Why have him have a different kind of life, if your not going to explain it. If I run out of ideas, then I'll ask you guys.   
  
  
Lady Arwen of Rivendell: Uh, read above. I'm sorry, don't cry..   
  
  
_ I tried to stop him, but it was a fools battle, he'd killed so many times he didn't even hesitate as he drew his wand, and he only laughed as the green light...   
  
_ Those words echoed in Hermione's mind, bouncing off walls, that even she could not identify, and coming back to her ears again.   
  
  
In the silence that followed, Hermione found herself remembering words of Harry's: "I can hear my father telling my mother to run, to get me and run, that he'd hold him off, and even as my mother enters my nursery, I can hear the bang of his body, the foreboding footfalls of Voldemort coming up the steps.."  
  
  
Hermione gave her head a small shake, trying to physically dislodge the memory from her mind. It was no use to focus on the past, she had to focus on the future; finding Harry.   
  
  
"Did anyone give you any information on Harry, or how you came back?" Lily bit her bottom lip, glancing down at the books, and Hermione suddenly realized there titles. They were history books, all that would have contained Harry's first fight with Voldemort.   
  
  
"We only know what Dumbledore told James when he first woke up, which wasn't much. Harry is well known, and survived Voldemort, from these books though, I started to find out what the headmaster really meant by that." She smiled nervously, then quite suddenly, as if she had been itching to ask this question the moment the two strangers walked in the room, she said.   
"How does one beat him?..."   
  
  
  
A long silence stretch over the room, and Lily in this time realized that the two children had not flinched.   
_ Had the name lost importance in this time?_ _   
  
Was Voldemort already dead?_   
  
"He said you did." The young girl said, twisting her hands together. "Harry said you used ancient magic and saved him, that, that was why..."   
  
  
  
She fell silent all of a sudden, as if she had just realized what she was saying to his parents. If she had finished those words, she would have told them Voldemort could not touch Harry, and that would have be admitting he fought with Voldemort. She did not want to be the one to say that to his parents.   
  
Lily was crying, though no sound was coming. "You mean those words, someone was whispering them in my ear, someone told me to say them. The voice said they would save Harry, but I never thought..."  
  
  
James was staring at his wife, Ron had jumped to his feet, and Hermione was gazing ahead, lost in her own thoughts.   
  
  
"Who?" She croaked out at last, her voice uneven. "Who said that?"   
  
She had drawn back in her chair, and both hands were gripping the arms, nails digging into the wood.   
  
  
Lily regarded her for a moment, in which she swallowed and opened her mouth several times. Her eyes were closed, and James had a horrid feeling that she was remember that night, the day that seemed like only days ago to them.   
  
  
"He didn't say, but it was a man. Maybe your age, I could tell by his voice. Kind of like how Albus's words make you want to listen to him? Yes, I'm sure; it would have been very hard for me to say no to him."   
  
  
She still had her eyes closed, and she was trembling. "What else did I have to loose. Even if those words probably wouldn't work... I had no other idea how to save him. I couldn't let him die. I had already tried begging with a monster, that wasn't working. His whispers were my last hope."   
  
  
James was already by Lily's side, whispering comforting words in her ears, and Hermione was already wringing her hands again.   
  
  
"I have an idea, I have to go to the library, come one Ron. We'll come back in the morning alright Misses and Mister Potter?" James was nodding; Lily was still trembling.   
  
  
Hermione grabbed Ron by the wrist and swung the cloak over them both, rushing out the door. Just as they reached the knob, she heard Lily whisper.   
  
  
_ "He said he couldn't let Harry die this early, he said he would defeat Voldemort later, but not now, now he need his mothers help, my love."  
  
_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
HEADMASTERS OFFICE- SIRUS, REMUS, AND ALBUS.  
  
  
  
There was a map in front of them, magical made to show the whole world, and to bring up a state at call. It stretch over a good part of Albus's huge desk, and right now they had the Riddle Manor, and the cities surrounding it, blown up so far that they could see the name of each house, each store and of each person.   
  
Albus had said the dots in blue were Wizards and Witches, though there were not many in this town. It seemed as normal as privet drive.  
  
The headmaster had also pointed out to them that the red dots were children that were attending Hogwarts, of which there were non in the town, and that the green dots were children that showed magical talents; there were only four.   
  
None of them were Harry.   
  
So Albus moved to the next town, were they did not find Harry, though Dumbledore summoned each name of children Harry's age.   
The next three towns held nothing either.   
  
"Were is he!" Sirus shouted, aware suddenly that he sounded remarkably like he used to in Askaban. His voice was husky from listening with full attention to Dumbledore, and from yelling on a few occasions. It sounded like the hoarse screams he had always heard from the cells beside him, as they slept.  
  
A paleness came over him then, and he felt the ice climb under his skin, he could feel, even in memory, what Askaban was like. He was frozen with his fist above the air, ready to fall and slam on the Headmasters desk, but it fell to his side instead.   
  
"I want him back Albus, we have to find him." The Headmaster nodded solemnly to Sirus, and Remus squeezed his shoulder in reassurance.  
  
  
"Well although it seems appalling that we are not finding him in the surrounding towns, it is actually quite good. It means Harry must have Apperated; which he was quite well known for doing as a child." Albus's voice was calm, even a bit cheerful, and there was a twinkle in his eyes again. Remus was nodding, but Sirus did not move.   
  
  
_ "Do I really want to except that hope Albus? You say, and serve it, on a silver platter, but that silver makes me feel as if I am a Werewolf. Do I want to hope, if there really is none?"  
  
_


	11. An open book will lead to answers

A.N Hello, short one again, but as I am already a known person to leave one at a cliff hanger, I thought I had better not disappoint. In this chapter, we see a little of Harry coming through Kiddo.   
We also see a bit of a new character, and I must say by the end of the chapter it is quiet obvious who whispered to Lily.   
For those who have read Reunited, they probable guess it before, as he is one of my favorite characters. Another note on reunited, I will be rewriting it. Expect to see it taken down, or else republished, as new with the old still up. Will I get in trouble if I do that?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
ON WITH THE STORY...  
  
  
  
  
Elizabeth had expected to wake up to crying, baby's were expected to cry to get there needs, but she had not. Kiddo as Ryan was now calling him, and Elizabeth grimaced every time he answered the name- did not cry. She or Ryan would wake up and find the child grasping his cribs railing, wide awake and smiling at them, but he did not wake them as Elizabeth had thought.   
  
  
Indeed, he was nothing like Elizabeth had expected a child to be. He grabbed and pulled at hair certainly, but her five year old niece still did that.   
  
  
And, now like always, he waited patiently as she prepared a bottle for him. The Doctor had told them that bottles were the best for few days, because they could not be sure how malnourished he was.   
  
  
But tomorrow Elizabeth was to give him baby food, never the less, he seemed quite content with the milk. He grabbed onto it as she handed it to him and smiled at her through the nipple.   
  
  
He looked ridiculously amusing. Then he waved at her with one hand, as if already sensing her thoughts, and targeting to intensify them. He laughed as she smiled, and covered both his eyes, opening with an impression of what Ryan appeared like when he played the game with the infant. She thought it a remarkable resemblance for a baby's memory, until she realized her husband was behind her.   
  
  
She laughed out right this time, faced with both her husband and baby playing peek-a-boo.   
  
  
"You would make an excellent mime kiddo!" Ryan said, picking the child out of the highchair and flying him around. "Three days down, four to go. Then your all ours."   
  
  
Elizabeth shook her head at this, but let her husband glimmer in that hope for a few more moments.  
  
  
"Then sixty days until official adoption, remember? Only four until we can name him something more...appropriate."  
  
  
  
"You see, she doesn't like your name Kiddo." Ryan changed his hold on the child, switching him onto his right hip. "Any way, its not like we'll have to put anything in the paper, you know how they said to put it in like five papers, to make sure the parents see, because the news has already taken care of that. Last I counted it was six papers."   
  
  
He turned to the baby now, ginning foolishly. "You see, pal, your famous."  
That did not extract the kind of excitement Ryan had been searching for. The baby, brought his hand up to his forehead in an odd way, and burst into tears.  
  
  
  
It was the first time the child had cried, and both grown ups realized how intact the child's lung were. He was screaming as if all had suddenly been lost, and his hand was still gripping his forehead. Covering; Elizabeth realized, the lightning bolt scar on it.   
  
  
After they had calmed him down and he was sleeping in her lap, she would remember him doing the same thing, although he had made it an adorable move, in front of the camera's when they had come out of the hospital.   
  
Yes, this child was not at all what she had expected.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
HOGWARTS LIBRARY- HERMIONE.  
  
  
The library should have been locked, and no simple Alohomora should have opened it, but it did, and Hermione hadn't even been trying very hard.   
  
She had dropped Ron off at the Common room, and had hurried with the invisibility cloak to the library.   
  
  
From the moment the door had opened, Hermione had left drum of angst twist in her chest, and it was still there as she walked down the book isles.   
  
  
She was sure someone had purposely reduced the level of security around the doors, and she was half positive it was not Dumbledore.   
  
  
The old man might have let the key slip through, because she was sure he would have noticed the difference in the fake, but he did not loosen security around the castle, not when there might be a raid.   
  
She was not so sure Voldemort was dead, and even if he was, there was still his angry mobs of servants, she wouldn't underestimate them.  
  
  
That left that someone had already gotten in, or someone else wanted her to find the answer to the man who had whispered to Lily Potter. She wanted to think the last, but her mind would not throw away the possibility that the first seemed possible too.  
  
  
She kept checking behind her shoulder, and she had kept the invisibility cloak on, even though Filch was no were to be seen, nor his cat Mrs. Norris.   
  
  
Like people do when their paranoid about being watched; Hermione fancied she could feel someone glancing over her shoulder. She imagined a little voice whispering undiscernible words, and when she would spin around, there would be nothing there.  
  
  
Twenty minuets later, Hermione had not found the book she had been searching for, but could take no more of her minds nervous tricks. She came out of the isle, and headed to the door; she would come back in the morning, at breakfast.   
  
  
Just as she began to approached the last table before the door, she saw a book. It was incongruous sitting there open to its middle, because Madam Prince, made sure all books were put away at the end of the day. She was a bit paranoid on this rule, Hermione knew.   
  
  
She frowned at the book, and thought perhaps she should put it way; in case the librarian look for evidence of an intruder the next morning.   
  
She went to pick it up, but her eyes fell of the first words; the only words.  
  
  
In fact, as she suddenly noted, the page had been magical erased, and words had been written over them, probably also in magic.   
  
**_ I am Godric Gryffendor.  
  
_**  
The letters, made her slam the book shut, and as she did so, she heard a deep, rich chuckle echo through the library.   
  
"Do the words scare you in some way Miss. Granger?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Silvercrystal77: Thank you, and this chapter will unveil your question.   
  
  
Eric2: Thank you, no it is not Harry, though I indulged in that after you had guessed. It would make for an interesting twist, but no, not in this story.  
  
Wiccan PussyKat: You are, I agree; though I don't know much about you.   
I thought he did, I didn't think he said as much, but in this I needed him to say more. Yes it is AU.   
Yes I am sure in real life, it would so much more...well, stressful. I hear that too, and death risks every year to round it off, hehe.   
Another thing that has been simmering, thank you. Merlin, no. NO that is to, cliché for me, it is not Merlin. Of course by the time you've gotten to this part of the story, you already know that.  
The map, yeah, I like it to.  
  
  
Athenakitty: Yes, she will, by the time your reading this, you already know your next question. In a bit, I'm having to much fun writing him, and his foster parents. Oh alright, just to prove I'm really am a nice person, even though you wont have known this until later I'll tell you, he apperated to Ireland, no were in London.   
  
  
Lily Skylo: Yeah, Sirus has yet to realize it. But come on the man was in Azkaban, I kind of thought it would effect him by leaving him kind of cautious about happy or hopeful thoughts, because the Dementors would have only taken them from him, you know.  
Yeah the map was a good idea, but it was also there to point out just what you noticed; Dumbledore makes mistakes, even he is not aware of how Harry has disappeared.   
We picture this man as a figure that can never fall, Harry did up until 5th year, and I think by the end of 4th year, but the fact is, he's human, and humans are imperfect, it is one of out perfection's.  
I think he will be a bit younger then eleven, but that would be interesting.   
Oh and I wanted to tell you something about Reunited, I'll be rewriting it. You might have read this in the authors note, but I want to make sure you got it, as I wont be answering your questions soon. It was very old writing, and I think it needs to be polished, thank you though for reading it.   
  
  
Honeyduck: Thank you.


	12. Baby's and food

A.N : Hey, its my longest chapter, and when I say this it is a degrading thought to my self, nine pages! Still that is very small. I don't think this chapter is of the best quality, but I plan on rewriting all of the chapters next month. I guess I don't have that much to say...  
  
Athenakitty: First, yes they will find a name. Second, and third together, she does get more answers, but they are from someone, not a book. Harry will be found, a potion, I can't be sure.  
  
  
Silvercrystal77: Thank you, and yes it was Godric.  
  
Honeyduck: Harry will be found, don't worry.  
  
  
Wiccan PussyKat: Ah, yes I am a girl, lol. Thank you, I can't wait till I can call him something else then Kiddo. I guess they knew he could cry, because that's how Ryan found him, but other wise its the first time. Yeah I bet they kind of feel lucky. Three now, but no, he's not going to be found before then. I have the name picked out already.  
Yes he lowered the security, and yes he whispered in Lily's ear. Hehe, yeah I guess I kind of diluted the...words, that might have been said. But come one, does Hermione ever curse, Ron, now he I could see doing that.  
  
  
Eric2: Yes he does have his memories.  
  
  
Lily Skylo: Yeah, I'll be rewriting that over spring break.  
Godric, he's one of my favorite characters. Yes Harry, or Kiddo can't wait to name him, still has his scar. A little famous, but one of those stories that will die down. Yeah, I agree, I think they should have looked, but I don't think they would have seen the connection.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
ON WITH THE STORY...  
  
  
She spun, knocking the book to the floor in the process. She would have been worried about that clatter, a minuet ago, but now it was lost as she caught sight of the speaker, lost in the drone that was beginning to drum in her head. She could only feel a numb recognition, although her mind should have pounded with it.   
  
Hair as dark as chard wood fell less then tidily, thought nothing like Harry's, to the tips of the mans earlobes, and eyes, a remarkable emerald, shone like beacons against the strangers light skin.   
  
  
He took a slight step forward, giving her a small knowing smile. But for every one of his steps, Hermione found herself taking one back. The written words, to the mans name, the connection to the book, had come milliseconds after he had spoken, but she had yet to be able to react to it.  
  
  
It was as if she had the information, but could not use it, and she did not scream as she would have pictured herself doing.   
She merely backed up, perhaps subconsciously headed for the exiting door.   
  
  
  
The face appeared so much like her friends, that she wanted to fling herself at the man and hug him, wanted to pretend it was Harry, to bury her face in his shoulder and chant that he was alright, that Voldemort had not killed him; that Dumbledore had never been hiding him. But it was not him, it was someone wearing his face, a more accurate one then James Potter's.  
  
  
He picked the book up as he approached it, and placed it back on the table, so gently that it did not even make a muffled thump.   
  
  
"I'm sorry Miss Granger, perhaps I should not have introduced myself on paper? But you were looking for me, and hardly seemed to think my whispers were anything but your own fancy."   
  
  
"You can't be him, he's dead." The mans eyes twinkled for a moment, a suppressed laugh perhaps, Hermione could not tell. Then tapped the side of his nose, and grinned. It was a wide smile, and suggested that his face was used to the curve.  
  
  
"Oh but Miss Granger, you came in this library looking for me. How did you expect me to answer your questions? Do you think I would have left the answer behind in inked letters, no, I know better then to let a thousand little children read it, when it was only meant to be read by one. I have been waiting for you Miss Granger, for a long time."   
  
  
  
"How do you know my name." The man, and she should not have thought of him as so, as he was no older then her, positioned himself to sit on the ledge of one of the tables, and swung his legs back and forth, the swing seemed to have no apparent rhythm, though he seemed to sense one.  
  
  
"I know all Gryffendor's Miss Granger, I could even go so far as to say I know you outside of school. I know you parents are Dentists, I know you are Muggleborn, I know almost everything. Of course I picked you for my house, so of course I would know..."   
  
  
His voice trailed off, and the silence seemed to invite questions, yet at the same time promise no answers.   
  
  
"The sorting hat chose my house." Hermione found herself saying, and it felt strange correcting this man, this legend. While at the same time he did not stand before her as a man, nor a hero figure, but as a peer. And this thought was further agreed on, in her mind, as he laughed.   
  
  
"Ah, yes, but we whisper to him. We tell him the final. Some, it is true, we let him choose, but, no some are far more important." He stopped swinging his legs for a moment, and regarded her instead.   
  
His features had changed from playful interest, to intent, and determination.   
  
  
Hermione could feel her back hit the door, and could feel her hand sneak behind her back, grasping around the knob, but she was surprised by her own hesitation to turn the circle. Finally, she spoke the question she had been itching to be answered.   
  
"Do you know were Harry is?"   
  
  
His features still appeared determined, but there was laughter underlying them. "There are so many Harry's in this world, who?"  
  
  
"Harry Potter, do you know were he is?" The emerald of his eyes seemed to flash. Hermione had seen Harry's eye do that as he made a hard decision, or, when he had seen Voldemort. They always seemed unnaturally green when he had woken from a nightmare, Ron had told her.  
  
  
  
"You mortals use names to tightly, I still do not know of whom you speak. Try using something that is other then a title, Miss Granger."   
  
The way he tilted his head, reminded Hermione of Fawkes, the Headmasters phoenix; teasing yet intense.   
  
  
"Harry James Potter, Lily and James Potters son." Hermione, perhaps more relaxed, would have come up with a much better answer the second time, she was sure. But she was more desperate, confused, and scared, then she had ever been.  
  
  
"In which plan of world? You're still using title, dear girl." Hermione took a deep breath, willing her mind to arrange a workable sentence.   
  
  
"My friend, he has untidy black hair, emerald green eyes, a smile that when given is spectacular, and a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. I am told you saved him, on Halloween, that you whispered to his mother as you whisper to the hat. He pulled your sword out of your hat in second year, he, his name is Harry Potter, that is my friend, that is who I speak of-" Godric held up a hand to silence her, and he said.   
  
  
"That is enough Miss Granger." He slipped off the table and walked over to her, gently lifting her hand from the knob. Hermione let him, and as he touched her skin, she could feel the huge amount of Magic moving under it, swimming through his veins.   
  
  
"Harry Potter, son of Lily Evans Potter and James Potter, is no more." She fell slack against his shoulder for a moment, then pushed away, falling beside the door, and brought her hands around her knees; feeling as if the whole word was ruined.   
  
  
"He's dead? No, no, he can be. Harry can't be. My friend he can't be." Again she felt the overwhelming amount of Magic   
touch her as he lifted her hands from around her face; exposing her tears.   
  
  
"Harry Potter is gone, not your friend." He took a long, racking sigh, as if he were going to say something he thought were wrong. "Harry Potter is not deceased, merely gone. His title is no longer in use, his name, it is not his anymore. _ Harry Potter_ is dead, but your friend Miss Granger, is _fine_."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
OUT SIDE HOSPITAL ROOM- SAME TIME- REMUS AND SIRUS.   
  
  
  
Remus felt nauseous, as he watched his friend walk back and forth out side the hospital door. The world had already been spinning at odd angles, before this.   
  
  
Remus could even feel the slight wind, the smells that drifted, from his friends movements against his face. There was to much wolf to him, even five days after a transformation.   
  
  
"Sirus, come one. We, _I_, know Poppy comes down at six in the morning. You can sleep, I'll wake you up. I promise, come on."   
  
Sirus spun in his direction for a brief three seconds, then answered as he turned back.   
  
  
"You could forget." The voice was as unreadable as tea leaves, to Remus, but the sent of his sweat, gave an emotion away. _Fear, fear of a fight._   
  
  
Those words were the ones of a wolf, but Remus could translate them more accurately just by knowing his friends background.   
  
He was going to try and apologize to Lily and James, and he was afraid that they would not except it, especially with Harry missing.   
  
  
  
"I will not forget, I slept late last night, I'll be up for some time, come one Padfoot, you can join me for dinner."   
  
  
_ "No Remus_. What time is it?" The two parts of that dialogue sounded so different. Remus glanced at his watch, and replied.   
  
  
"12:58." Sirus thought of this over for a moment, then furrowed his brow.   
  
  
"No, its one, Remus, your clocks off. Use a spell to tell." Resmus, tiredly lifted his wand and muttered for the time to be corrected on his watch, it told him it was three minuets off.  
  
  
Confused, and slightly irked, he snapped, and he knew it was the wolf that was irked by this. "If you already had a watch, why did you ask me?"   
  
  
Sirus, paused in his continuous steps, caution etching his brow. He was realizing how few days it had been since the transformation, and, that Remus had not had a pepper up potion today.   
  
"_Sorry_, but I don't have a watch, I used to count minuets in Azkaban." He shrugged, and as he did so, Remus found himself slumping against a wall for support.   
  
  
"You seem mighty cheerful, all of a sudden." Remus observed dryly.  
  
  
"Of course, its morning. We're allowed in now." Sirus said, and Remus suddenly found himself being pulled through the doors.   
  
It was unlocked, that worried Remus, and then he caught smell of the occupants of the room...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
MCCLAIN'S HOUSE- MORNING- 7:34  
  
Ryan was learning something that morning, about baby's. Their food was very messy. No matter what he did, the child would not eat the mash on the spoon, and even if he coaxed the infants lips open, he would merely spit it out again.   
  
  
"It can't be that bad." He said, and the baby made a face, one that, Ryan was sure, was meant to convince him against his own words. For a moment Ryan sat the jar on the highchairs table, sat back and sighed; of course, that would be another one of his mistakes.   
  
  
As he leaned forward, interested as the infant had begun to play with the spoon, and alert that it was a choking hazard, he found the spoon shoved into his relaxed face.   
  
Ryan smiled, or attempted to, as he swallowed a bit. It tasted, true to the label, like peach, but it was very similar,   
Ryan thought, to the kind that gets dropped to much, and is sour, and ugly on the tongue.   
  
"It's wonderful!" He lied, but the child was regarding him in suspicion.   
  
  
Elizabeth came down into the kitchen, and frowned at Ryan's shirt; it was splattered with peach. She raised her eyebrows as the child shook his head at the jar, and walked to the cupboard.   
  
  
"He can have some cereal." She said, wiping the orange food off the table, and placing a handful of small, round cereal in it's place. The child nodded approvingly, and grabbed at it.  



	13. Knowing of Names

  
  
  
  
  
  
A.N Question, anyone know what color Remus's eyes are? I've seen them written as amber, but I want to make sure, I'd already   
made eye color mistakes once.  
I was noticing on other stories that have just been updated, and have less chapters then me, have a lot more reviews, and then, I figured out most of their methods, (one of them is to have really good story, I don't have that so..) they torture their readers by making them wait months to update.   
Now me, I only wait like a week at the most, so I guess I just don't care about reviews that much. I don't have flame yet, so, I think I'm doing alright. (Reunited is another story)   
  
  
bobbi: your so hard on James and Lily, there still locked in the hospital room. But no I am afraid everyone is to late, Harry will be with the McClains for a little.  
  
  
Drusilla: Wow, I have a new reviewer. Yes well, I'll try my best. Thank you for the 10/10.  
  
  
Silvercrystal77: sorry, I'll try not to any more :). Yeah, he definitely gave Ryan a taste of his own medicine. Thank you.   
  
  
athenakitty: I really can't answer yet if Godric knows, and no, Harry will not be found before the McClain's adopt him.  
  
  
Wytil: I'm not quite sure I understand your question, though I think your referring to Godric telling Hermione the deference between Harry and the baby. brittany: Thank you.  
  
  
Eric2: Saved? He will be fine, but the Potters will not find him before the McClain's adopt him. amyaggie: half a one year old, but with memories.  
  
  
Wiccan PussyKat: Helllo, hmm, yes I would have hated that to happen too. Yes, they do share a bit of blood. The hat idea, I liked it to. Yes, the ghosts of the founders still linger. Thank you, I liked it too.  
_  
  
  
ON WITH THE STORY.  
  
  
_  
  
  
HOGWARTS- SET FROM LAST REMUS SIRUS SCENE  
  
  
  
It rushed at him, surrounding and drowning him. To such a degree that he found himself lost of breath, but Remus did not often experience such effects with being able to smell the sent's of others.   
  
  
Perhaps it was the fact that he thought them dead, but no, he had known for some time now. So, perhaps, it was the emotion of smelling them fine, and knowing they were awake.   
  
  
  
Whatever the reason, Remus found himself, beside Sirus, who was having the same problem, frozen. Sirus was opening and closing his mouth now, and Lily, as he noticed, had been crying.   
  
  
The puffy red eyes struck a cord in him, and with so much pack instincts, so much wolf, he wanted to rip the throat out of the person who had made her do so.   
  
  
He knew he was already dead though, her son had done the favor for her already.   
  
  
  
He could vaguely see James grinning, and had to admire that he had always taken change or surprise in stride. Perhaps, though, they had both heard them outside before hand.   
  
  
  
He would later come to realize that the couple had already had visitors, that when they offered them both a seat, Hermione and Ron had been sitting in them only hours before.  
  
  
  
Then he learned of the students quick departing, and were Hermione had said she was going. After all this, after sitting for five more minuets, he too jumped up.  
  
  
For he could smell the magic, and he could feel its power.   
  
  
Whether it be good or bad, he could not be sure, but he was unwilling to leave one of his former students, nay anyone, to that unsureness.  
  
  
That is how he found himself, now, running down one of Hogwart's corridors.  
  
He could feel his heart hammer against his chest, could feel his feet drumming heavily against the stone floors. Yet, his mind seemed some how louder then anything else.   
  
  
Alarms were bellowing off in his mind, but once he reached the library door, he found it suddenly clear.   
  
_ It's the calm before the storm_, Remus thought, as he slowly turned the knob.   
  
  
When he entered, he froze for a second time that day. Before him, asleep, was Hermione Granger. Her hair lay neatly behind her head, and she looked quite comfortable curled under a huge, red and gold cloak.   
  
  
  
On top the nearest table, a dark haired teen watched. He seemed a statue, sculpted by exquisite hands, as he Remus watched him. He did not seem to even breath, and Remus could read no emotion from him. Remus was sure he had heard him enter, but he had not turned, nor spoken.   
  
  
The werewolf rushed forward, kneeling beside the girl, while keeping a close watch on the young man above her.  
  
  
"She fell asleep, a while ago. Fitful, I might add, so I put a sleeping charm on her. I wouldn't wake her though, it's best she comes to a conclusion in her sleep. She'd been crying for a half an hour before hand." Remus suddenly noticed how similar the young man was to Harry, and to surprise him twice, there smell was one of family.  
  
  
"Who are you?" He narrowed his eyes at the teen, as he suddenly began swinging his legs back and forth.   
  
"I am many thing's. You, on the other hand, were the teacher in Miss Granger's third year. And a werewolf, a magnificent teacher though."   
  
  
"Who are you?" Remus was aware his voice held a bit of a growl now, but the boy merely smiled.   
  
"_I_ am not scared of you Mr. Lupin. Hardly, am I ever scared by any of your kind. In fact as I see it, you are the least of my worries. Even the sleeping girl, you are so ready to think I have hurt, is above you in my worry list."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
SAME DAY AS LAST- ONLY NIGHT- MCCLAIN.   
  
  
It was night now, the stars were standing brightly against the velvety sky. The lights in the nearby town, and houses, were out. But Elizabeth was not asleep.   
  
  
From his crib, the infant stared at her. She wanted to pick him up, but she was tempted to see what he would do to get her to do so. Would he cry, she thought not   
He smiled, and did so for ten minuets.   
  
  
"Won't you even reach your arms out, little one? And if not, why?" He cocked his head to one side, then reached his tiny hands out, and began to smile again.  
  
  
She gazed at him in awe. Had he understood her, or was it merely coincidence? She thought the last, for no child of his age could understand that. Elizabeth came to pick him up, maybe he would learn to signal for what he wanted.  
  
  
"You, sir, are going to be handsome." He giggled at her, and again, feeling in a tempting mood, she placed him on the ground. The doctor had told them to keep him off his his hands, and feet, but the same day the baby food began, the other rule had been released to.  
  
  
From his sitting position, he regarded her. And stared in confusion, as she took three adult steps back from him.   
  
  
For a moment Elizabeth could see fear swirl in his endless green eyes, so she took one step forward. He still watched her, still sat there as motionless as stone. He thought she was leaving him, didn't want him.   
  
  
And Elizabeth soon realized this as he crawled, as fast as he could, over to her. And then, he refused to let go of her shirt. Perhaps, she thought, we should wait on crawling. But he had not cried...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
HOSPITAL ROOM  
  
  
  
  
Sirus glanced between his friends, who were looking at the doors Remus had just rushed out of, without explanation, in confusion, and the door itself.   
  
  
He gazed at the door because knew he must follow Remus, for he knew the calm man would never have rushed out so quickly if something were not wrong.   
  
  
He gazed at his friends, because it hurt to think of leaving them. He at least, would give them an explanation. "Remus, I. You stay here, lock the doors."  
  
  
It was not the best one, he admitted, but it would do. Lily and James were already nodding, they already knew his reasons. So, with a forethought that perhaps he might run into children on his way, Sirus transformed into a dog, and raced out the door.  
  
  
He ran first to the library, thinking that since he had heard last of Hermione's whereabouts, he had went there, but he stopped on his way, and skidded to a halt.   
Back he went, the way he had come. And took a left, were he had taken a right, at the hospital door. Dumbledore would have to be informed. He had no idea what he was dealing with.   
  
  
At the entrance to the Headmasters office, Sirus transformed into a human. He already knew that no one was in the room, he had paused as a dog. Nevertheless, when the Headmaster asked who was at his door. He replied, "Snuffles."   
  
  
The door was opened, and the first thing that the escaped convict noticed was that the Headmaster's phoenix was pacing its perch nervously, but he did not inquire, Sirus did not even take time to let the Headmaster smile at him.   
  
  
"Remus sensed something was wrong, I, can you follow me?"   
  
  
  
"Indeed I can, lead the way." As Sirus moved away from the door, to allow the old man exit, the phoenix flew out. Sirus did not think much of it, it most likely had a message to deliver, or perhaps, it to had sensed the trouble.  
  
  
  
Sirus turned into Snuffles again, and rushed off. He stopped once, thinking perhaps that was running to fast for the Headmaster, but the man was right behind him.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
MCCLAIN'S HOUSE- ELIZABETH AND HARRY.   
  
  
  
Sighing, and a with a child that would not loosen its grip, Elizabeth warmed up a bottle. "If it makes you feel any better, I promise I'll never leave you."   
  
  
She flatten the child's hair, but he would not even turn his head from her sweater, when she tried to hand him the bottle.   
  
  
  
"Want me to sleep with you? We can go to the nursery, and rock in the chair." She got no answer, and even when she went to the nursery, the bottle ended up becoming cold. She sat long into the night with the child, as he refused to let go. What was he so afraid of?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
LIBRARY DOOR.  
  
  
  
They arrived at the library door, Sirus already knew his friend was in there, indeed he had followed the mans trail since he had picked Dumbledore up. It led to the library, so he rushed in.   
  
  
  
Remus was still kneeling by Hermione, and the young man was still swinging his legs under the table. He did not turn when Sirus entered, but he jumped off the table when the Headmaster did.   
  
  
In fact, showing the first respect that Remus had seen, he bowed to the Headmaster.   
  
  
"Good evening Headmaster." He eyed the door, as if he expected others to enter, but none did, so he turned back to the old man.   
  
"I was just trying to explain how Hermione came looking for me, and, as I am rather regretful of doing, I-"   
  
  
Remus cut the stranger off. "How can she go look for you, she doesn't know you. _What is your name_, will you answer it for Dumbledore?"   
  
  
The boy frowned at the former professor, then turned back, grinning as if the younger man had not burst out, to Albus.   
  
  
"I would, but he already knows who I am."  
  



	14. If Only Songs Could Explain

  
  
  
  
A.N: Alright, don't yell, I know its only four pages, but I need to stop here for a real reason. I need to know, is it alright if I skip into the future a bit, not a lot, but a little? This is kind of the beginning of the plot. So, continue day by day, or skip a few weeks?   
  
  
  
athenakitty: I hope you understand that you have asked questions that I can not answer. I will supply what I can, but beyond that you will have to wait. Soon is put to use as not as an adult, not even as a teen, younger then these, but a number I can not tell. I have not decided. Do not fret, James and Lily will be playing major parts.  
  
  
Molly Morrison: answer to second review. I can not tell you what will happen next, that is why a story is told, and tension is built. I still have a lot to build, I hope you will keep reading.  
  
  
LadyRainbowStar13: Thank you.  
  
  
Wiccan PussyKat: Hello again, yes, in this chapter, you get to know. I even skipped ahead a day in the first scene because everyone was getting antsy. Thank you for the hint on his eyes, I'll have to find the third book in all my piles. Yes, I will say there were busy.  
I laughed at myself when I wrote that line, it seemed so...oh goodness, I forget how to spell it. cliché? perhaps that is the spelling, anyhow, yes it seems like everyone of those people said that, but I made him say it for that exact reason.   
He will be found before his teens, that is my new explanation to those questions. Thank you for reviewing.  
  
  
Drusilla: yes the remembrance of being alone, that and other factors.'   
  
  
Eric2: I'll be doing Harry's perspectives soon, when he's a bit older.  
  
  
Silvercrystal77: thank you, and yes your right.  
  
  
MCCLAINS- NEXT MORNING.  
  
  
_It was the day_, Elizabeth smiled as she woke up, and dragged herself from under the covers. Today they named the baby. The mirthful thought brought her skipping down the stairs, only to pause at their end, and listen to what Ryan was saying.   
  
  
Apparently she was not the first up, she pushed back her dark hazel hair, and leaned against the railing. The door to the kitchen was open, so she could clearly hear his words.   
  
  
"Connor? No, alright. Bryan, no to close to mine. Thomas? No, alright, stop looking at me that way. Ronald? Hey don't cover you eyes, I had an uncle called that. Henry? Herald? Harry? (Elizabeth could hear a whimper at this one) I give up, you either cry, sigh, bang you head on the table, blow a raspberry at me, or cover your eyes. You tell me your name.  
  
  
"Devlin." Ryan turned to Elizabeth, as she stepped into the room. "We shall call him Devlin."  
  
  
The baby nodded, and giggled; this perhaps could be explained by Ryan nodding at the same time, but what he did next would always amaze her for its timing.   
  
  
"Ma, mama."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
HOGWARTS LIBRARY- CONTINUED  
  
  
  
The Headmaster had made no objections to the young mans suggestion, nor did he speak. He regarded the boy intently for a long moment, letting his eyes seep into the younger's, but the boy did not shift; did not try to squirm out of that gaze as so many others do, he stared right back.   
  
  
The green eyes were endless, he could not sound them out, yet, in all the depth, Albus realized he had hidden all his emotions.   
  
  
  
"How is Fawkes?" He asked, and at those words, the library doors flew open. A gold mist seemed to surround the golden bird, as he flew in, and, with all its grace, positioned itself on the young mans shoulder.   
  
  
Still the Headmaster said nothing, but smiled slightly as the bird allowed the young man to stroke him. Perhaps that was why the boy had been looking to the doors before; perhaps he had known the bird was coming.   
  
  
  
There seemed to be something in the boy that was surreal; perhaps it was in those endless green eyes, in which Remus could not even see himself, only his dreams his hopes, his own fears, but nothing of they're owner, or, perhaps it was something else, something further hidden from the wolf.   
  
  
"He is fine, as you can see. What do we owe to your company?" The Headmaster first words were quiet, meant only for the two of them, yet the Headmaster must had remembered he had a Werewolf in the room.  
  
  
The boy stroked the birds feathers once again, gazing into the birds black eyes, as he said, "Wait a moment, Headmaster, we still have more visitors to enter. It is not nice to _eaves drop_; therefore, come in and _listen_."   
  
  
With a small chuckle the young man watched as two figures entered, and Remus could see Dumbledore frown in disapproval. It was Lily and James, and the Headmaster appeared as if he were about to lock them in the hospital room again.   
  
  
"I would give fair warning," He said raising both white eye brows at the couple, "You are still dead to the student population."   
  
  
  
"Ah, do you hear, he has chosen to tell the staff, how wonderful!" It was the young man, and Dumbledore turned to him, and stroked his long beard, finding something interesting that Remus did not. "Welcome, and did you follow the dog here?"   
  
  
Sirus glared at him, but Remus put a hand on his shoulder. The young man turned to him. "No offence meant of course. I do find your star quite wonderful, and you are an excellent Wizard your self; anyone who can learn to transform while still in school, is fine in my book."  
  
  
Lily was staring at him, and Remus could see her contemplating. Suddenly she was pointing a finger at him, and said, rather forced so that her voice broke. "You, your him."  
  
  
As the boy turned to Lily, his eyes lost there twinkle, though Remus could not help but notice how he frowned for a moment.   
  
_In pity? _ Remus was not sure, but he was sure that this man smelled kind now. He had not smelled hateful, but, then again, he had smelt like nothing when Remus had entered. It gave him relief. And he answered her simply, correctly with out putting up any blocks or hiding in a lie.   
  
  
"Yes I am, and how are you Miss Evans Potter?" Remus had never heard Lily called by that surname before, not after she had married James.   
  
  
"I am worried for my son, you saved him once, will you help again?" Remus could sense a bit of anger rise and then fall in teen, but he hid it well. He merely shook his head, and took a step back from them all.   
  
  
He was not afraid, as Remus first thought; no it was something far deeper, something buried in the past. He closed his eyes, and opened them again. They were determined once more, although their was a sorrow in them.   
  
  
"Your son is safe." He said; he had taken the bird in his hands, resting it on his lower are, so he looked strait at it, and said to it.   
  
  
"Sing for me, my friend, sing for your first owner, for I am Godric Gryffendor, and I know you remember me. Give them hope with your song, for they will find none for sometime. If _only_ your song could explain it to them, if only they could realize he will come. He will come to them when he is ready."  
  
  
He threw the bird up, and it sung. The melody was so beautiful, that all looked up to the bird as it circled the room, only when it had ended, and the bird had landed on a table instead of the young mans shoulder; only then did they notice he was gone.


	15. The Scaled Name

  
  
  
  
  
A.N Name pronunciation. You don't need one for DEVLIN, sounds just as it is. I'll give on for the sister though.   
  
Deirdre: DARE-dra or DEER-dra. Pick whichever you like.   
  
Did I spell Slytherin, correct?   
I hope I haven't skipped too much time. I am addicted to cliff hangers; forgive me. I have acutely 10 pages written, but page 5 seemed better to end with. Don't hate me, you'll see the next chapter in the morning most likely.   
  
Spring break this week for me, so I suspect I'll either get lots posted, or very few. We'll see if any of my other friends have lives planned this week.   
  
  
Tell me how you think I portrayed Devlin? I made him eight because of how many years he would have till Hogwars. Nine seemed to old, and seven to young. Tell me what you think.  
  
  
  
  
Molly Morrison: Yeah, I kind of guessed that was why you were asking, I was just making sure you understood. I hope I did a good job on this chapter, seeing as its so important. Thank you.   
  
  
  
Ossini: -GASP- HE VANISHED! Thanks for reviewing, I couldn't resist responding to your review that way.   
  
  
  
Relative1983: Epps! Did I say a few weeks in that author note? Ah, it will be a bit more. Um, answering your next question, yes he does have all of those memory's. I suppose it would be troublesome. Poor Harry/Devlin. He was 15 in the beginning. Thanks for your review.  
  
  
Me: Thank you.  
  
  
Honeyduck: Oh yeah? Read Reunited, then see were I came from. Thank you for the compliment, and your probably fine.  
  
  
Smile =): Your the first one to call my story wicked, thank you.   
  
  
  
Wiccan PussyKat: Glad your happy about the name being revealed. Devlin, yes it is a less used name. It means brave or fierce. I liked the name, really, but it also matched on word in Godric's house. Yes, I wanted to show that he wanted to start fresh.   
Godric, yes I kind of Imagine him as a wise, but humorous man. I liked the way he revealed himself also. Ah, don't see that, although; I could have a flash back, if you like. It would be fun to write.   
That bird plays a bigger role then Dumbledore's shows, he is weird. And he seems...I don't know. Thank you.  
  
  
  
Machewitt : Thank you, and I agree, I have skipped ahead a while.   
  
  
  
Bonnie4: Thank you.   
  
  
Athenakitty: All in due time (soon time).  
  
  
Silvercrystal77: Thank you, he vanished. I'll be explaining it soon in the story.   
  
  
Wytil: You called me different, thank you. It is my goal to stand out. Doom and gloom get tiring after a while, and soon do not hold onto there meant to be panic.  
  
  
Eric2: thank you.   
  
  
Black Katana: Thank you, hope your eyes didn't start to hurt. Skip, well then, I have granted your wish. Devlin, I just always liked the name. Its from a novel I'm writing.   
  
  
Gaul1: Thank you.  
  
  
Cataclysmic: I must be giving you a headache. We'll see what happens. Thank you for your review.   
  
  
Mikito: Thank you.  
  
  
  
  
ON WITH THE STORY.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The sky was black, and what little light the moon was offering was slowly slipping away. At a wooden outside table, dinner was being prepared, the porch light illuminating only that small portion of the backyard. And off to a bit from adults, a small girl was swinging on a play set.   
  
  
But these's people are not of our focus; for, in a corner, were it was shadowed by a tree, and were no eyes would have seen anything but a small child's shadow. Devlin sat, perhaps to still for a normal eight year old.  
  
  
  
He was well aware of were his parents were, and, of were his sister, Deirdre, was. He had convinced her to stop following him, and now he searched for the small animal she had scared off. It had frightened him that she had gotten so close to it.  
  
  
_ For to long he had worried_, Devlin had decided a few weeks ago, _if he had paid his debts back. _  
  
  
It was nerve racking for him, to think that he was living in peace, when he given nothing for it.   
_Had he defeated Tom Riddle, or had he left his first home to die? Had he saved her? She had saved him once, had he fulfilled his promise, to save her also? Had he saved the man who had died to save both her and he? Had he saved Cedric, the boy who had died because of his own mistake?  
_  
  
He could not be sure, and if he had not, he could not live with himself.   
  
  
  
Devlin would find every ounce of fear he felt, sneak up on him, and eat at his soul with a gnawing sort of hunger, clenching an icy fist around his throat and daring him to scream. But he could not scream, he could not seem depressed either. If this planned were to work, then he needed it to seem an accident.   
  
  
Slowly, he edged up from his sitting position, and crawled around the tree trunk. He had thought at first that it would come back out if he were still enough, he guessed not. Something hissed near one of his hands, so he moved back a bit.   
  
  
Down on the ground was a small snake, its beady black eyes staring unmercifully up at him, and its light pink tongue flickering out to smell him.   
  
Something filled him then, bubbling up from a part of his mind he had locked and keyed years ago; Magic. He could feel it wave off the small animal. And, in the darkness of that chamber of his mind, a language leapt to his tongue.  
  
  
Something must have stopped the animal from biting him, for his wrist was close to its jaw. It was a rare snake; one even Voldemort would save been proud to have at his side. A magical snake, to the whole.   
  
  
Devlin could recall little of its history, but he seemed to remember it only lived were Magic was strong in the air. Yet it hated crowds.   
  
  
_"Hello, dear friend. I ask a favor."_ That sensation filled him again, and he found himself hesitating while at the same time wanting to use the language again. He had told himself in second year, that he would be nothing, have no similarities, like Voldemort. That had been broken though, so he had promised himself the next best thing, to be no more then needed, like the man.  
  
  
It had taken him weeks to get this tiny snake here. There were hardly any snakes in Ireland, so that meant finding Wizards owls. That had been difficult, in itself taking a week, but he had found one.  
  
  
What he had asked it to do, he was sure, it had never been asked before. _Catch a snake from London, and bring it back alive,_ a magical snake no less. That had taken three days, for the owl had given the job to another. A peregrine falcon, the falcon had been happy enough to fetch the thing for him.   
  
  
He had even told him to find a snake, in his own words, "that humans are not allowed to handle, a very poisonous one." It had hesitated then, but Devlin had convinced it. Indeed, Devlin was grateful the bird had been so bright.   
  
  
  
As he had watched it soar off into the sky, he had suddenly missed his owl, Hedwig. She would have gotten him that snake to, she would not even have hesitated.   
  
Her amber eyes, and snow white feathers had flashed before his eyes, but he had distanced it from his mind by the end of the hour. _Perhaps he could see her again, sometime._ He had told himself, as he had begun to push his sister on her swing.  
  
  
  
The next weeks had passed in worry, a slight angst was always tightening in his chest. He was glade he had chosen to do this over summer, for he was sure he would be failing school if he had not.   
  
  
Now that the snake was here, all he had to gain was its trust. _What I am doing_, Devlin thought, _will cost me my life if it is done wrong._   
  
It was true, his plan was complex, and counted on mere trust, trust with an animal.   
  
  
'_A talking human, how intriguing.'_ It whispered, raising its head up slightly. For a moment it lifted into a patch of moon light that was filtering through the trees leaves, and for that second Devlin could see the runes on its scales.   
  
Indeed, he could remember; the runes on its side told its name. If anyone could see one up close that long without being killed.   
  
  
_'I had no clue you humans could speak, you seem so unintelligent.'  
  
  
_ Devlin held his temper, and smiled. _Yes, well I am different, it is my talent. I ask a favor, will you trust me? I brought you here, because I am in trouble. I will give you anything you please, if you do what I tell you.' _  
  
  
The tiny tongue flickered, and the beady eyes seemed to study him for a moment. The gift of anything he wanted, of payment, he knew that was the only thing stopping the little critter from running away. _How Slytherin.   
_  
_ 'You are a Wizard. Very well, I will do your bidding, if you in turn place a spell on me.'  
_  
  
Frowning for moment, Devlin nodded. _'A heating spell, so I can hunt at night. So I will never have to have the sun to live.' _ Devlin smiled at this, for it was so simple.   
  
  
How he had begun to even worry, he had no idea. No snake would wish for something that was to big for him to do; even if he didn't have wand.   
  
  
_'I will, now listen closely to me.' The thing bobbed its head. 'I want you to bite me, just enough to get the Auror's here, so they think I am in danger.'   
  
  
'I will be captured._' It hissed, fire jumping to it's eyes, but Devlin shook his head; quelling that anger.   
  
  
_'I will place a temporary invisibility spell on you, and you can run away. Into the night, and never have to pause.'_   
  
Devlin glanced around him, making sure his parents still thought he was reading the book, and that his sister was still on the swing. They were.  
  
  
_ 'I can smell your truth, I shall, now were?'  
  
_ _'Were do you often bite, I want it to look real.'  
_It shook its tail for moment, then answered.   
  
_'Your wrist, you almost stepped on me before.'  
  
_   
So Devlin held out his wrist, and it closed its jaw around his flesh. 


	16. The Feather's Symbol

A.N: I'm not so sure I'm happy with the quality of this chapter, but it will have to do. Spelling is a question in here, especially with Severus; was that right. And some other names and such. Tell me if anything is wrong, thanks. I reached a 114 on this chapter. Yay!  
  
  
Athenakitty: Yes, Devlin does remember. Your next question is answered in this chapter, I believe.   
  
  
Molly Morrison: Good question, I think I explained in this chapter. Thank you.   
  
  
Eric2: Tell me if I misunderstood. He is going back because he is unsure weather he succeeded in saving his mother and father, and everyone else, he feels were killed because of him. He thinks he must in someway pay to have the peaceful life he is living. Still a bit of Harry in there.  
  
  
Gaul1: All will be answered, thank you though for reviewing.  
  
  
Cataclysmic: thank you, here it is.   
  
Silvercrystal77: thank you, yes Harry is Devlin.   
Wytil: Yes, Devlin remembers all of it. I hate to say more, because, well it will ruin the next few chapters. Sorry, and thank you for writing.  
  
  
Professor Authordude: tell your sister that this chapter is dedicated to her and you then. Nice to know I haven't picked too usual names. Thank you.   
  
  
Wiccan PussyKat: Yes, big change. So many questions, eeps lets see. Yes, he has a sister now, and yes he remembers. Because he doesn't know how to contact them, but he knows that the snakes bite will be detected by the Auror's.   
No they do not know were he is, but can sense, like how they found out in second year that Dobby did magic in Harry's house, that the snake bit someone.  
Yup in Ireland. I'm all Irish, and yes the runes. That's cool that your studying them. That was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and I, they are a rare occasion.   
  
SilverDragonHawk: Hehe, thank you.   
  
Bailyy: Thank you.  
  
Natural Anthem: it is lovely, and thank you for reviewing.   
  
  
  
ON WITH THE STORY.  
  
  
  
  
Devlin could feel fire moving up his arm; he cried out. His father came rushing, and the snake slipped away. He had cast the simple spell seconds ago. It was not long, though, that the Auror's came.   
  
  
He could never, even as Harry Potter, understand how they detected a snakes bite. Perhaps they put a spell on every one of them that was born, perhaps they had a kind of scanner that sensed the snakes magic when it released the poison. Whatever the method, they came.   
  
  
They pulled his mother and father away from him, and Apperated him to St. Mongos. He knew they would bring at least one of his parents soon after they transported him, but he was not paying attention.  
  
  
It burned more then he had thought it would. For a moment Devlin was reminded of that dreadful night, when he had been someone else, and that golden bead had run up his arm. But this was far worse, perhaps it was that he had never thought it would hurt this much, but he had expected to be in pain that long ago night.  
  
  
Sweat was rolling down his face, and he could feel his arm limp against the mans side, as he rushed him down one of the hospital halls. The ceiling was fuzzy as they rushed by, and Devlin could feel his eyes close.  
  
  
_ Stay awake_, Devlin kept telling himself, for a moment inattention could could have him healed and obviated, back at home before he realized it. For a moment Devlin could only feel the red fire in his veins, then slowly, almost hesitantly, he withdrew into himself.   
  
  
He had learned as Harry Potter, to detach himself from pain, but he never used it before today. Indeed, Devlin could remember, he had practiced it a lot at summer vacations. At home though there was always his parents to hold him and whisper in his ear; they never cared if he cried.   
  
  
He knew how painful the antidote would be, he could remember the dreams he had been having lately. Yet, he always expected it would be less painful then the basilisks bite; it was just as painful.   
  
  
  
They poured the yellow substance over the bite, and he was sure he could feel it seep into the wound, running, and racing after the poison, up his arm. And, Devlin was sure he could feel it suddenly catch up with the poison, sure he could feel it attack the poison.   
  
  
There was another shot of pain, and then it leveled out. Still there was fire in his arm, but it was not blasts, it was general.  
  
  
The Auror had stayed by his head, speaking to him in hushed tones. He was squeezing his uninjured hand, while explaining to the Doctors how unusual this was.   
"Ireland?"  
  
  
"Yeah, we don't get many from there. And no magic around." The man said. Devlin tried to keep hearing what they were saying, but, he was drifting out of reality and fiction like a pendulum connected to both worlds.  
  
  
He could hear memories and, at the same time the outside world. Though as he heard his own screams, and the calls of the doctor, he wanted more to slip into the memories.  
  
  
"Gonna have to obviate the whole family, its going to be an over night stay." Devlin struggled at those words, and dug his nails into the mans palm. He told him they were almost done, that he would be asleep in a little. He pleaded, not to go to sleep, but the Doctors seemed used to this. So, he moved to his next card.   
  
  
"I have to see Albus Dumbledore!" He said, and even though his words were slurred, the doctors stopped trying to get him to take the sleeping potion.   
  
  
"Thought you said he was a Muggle?" One of them said, and the Auror nodded.   
  
  
"Yeah, all Muggles." Devlin struggled again, and twisted himself to such an angle that he could see the light, almost unnoticeable, mark on the mans thumb. It was a golden feather; the Orders symbol.   
  
  
Within five minuets there was only one Doctor, and the Auror, left in the room. He repeated the statement, although he was sure they were talking about it already.  
  
  
"I have to see Albus Dumbledore, please." The Doctor came over to him, and nodded. But it was much more of a courteous one, then one that suggested he was really listening.  
  
  
As he checked Devlin's pulse, the child caught sight of the same feather; he had expected to, since this had been the Doctor to discreetly have everyone leave.   
  
  
"Please I need to see him. I have information he will want." The man said he was busy, that the man had better and more important things to see to, although Devlin could see the man warded the door as he walked by it. He turned to him now, a new gleam in his eyes.   
  
  
"How _did_ that snake get into your backyard, lad?" He asked, and it was no longer a Doctor talking to him, but a member of the Order.   
  
  
"I have to speak to Albus, I can see your Order mark, you must be able to contact him. Believe me, he will want to hear me."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
HOGWARTS- DUMBLEODRE'S OFFICE  
  
  
Severus Snape was perhaps a man who did not show his emotions, but that did not mean he did not have them. He was impatient, so much so that he was scowling at the golden bird in the Headmasters office.   
  
  
It was not often he took his inpatients out on the phoenix. After all, its tears were an essential ingredient in many of his potions, and that it gave it willingly meant he needn't go buy the over priced substance. But he bird did not seem bothered, so he kept scowling.   
  
  
Five minuets later, mumbling to himself that the _Headmaster_ had been the one to call upon _him_, he rose to his feet and prepared to leave. His bad luck cloud, which seemed to have grown since James Potter had begun helping Remus Lupin with the Defense position, chose now to thunder.  
  
The fire rose in the hearth, and a voice called out from it.   
  
  
"Hello, Headmaster are you there?" Snape spun around, scowling at the face. _Insolent Doctors, picking the worst times.   
  
  
_ "No, he is not here." The man was smiling, grinning across the fire.  
  
  
"Are you in trouble Severus? Got sent to the Headmasters office for being so unfair to every other house then yours." The professors lip curled, giving the impression of a silently growling dog.  
  
  
"If you had no other reason to call but to ramble about something so minuscule your mind could never understand, then I will gladly cut the line off." Severus held out his wand, preparing to cast the closing spell, when Dumbledore chose to walk in.   
  
  
"Ah, William, how are you? Having a pleasant conversation boys?" The old man knew very well they weren't, and how he held that causal gaze as Severus turned to glare at him, the professor could never understand. None of his expressions made the Headmaster flinch, perhaps he was used to them.  
  
  
"I suppose not," He gave a dismissive wave with his hand, "But we always must hope. Now, why would you be calling William?"  
  
  
The man seemed to think for a moment, in which time Severus mumbled about people who are prestige doctors, and then can't even remember why they called. Albus seemed get more worried by the moment. Finally the man seemed to settle on some words.   
  
  
"A child is asking for you Headmaster. I had some free time today, and knew this was your lunch break. He came in for a snake bite, a serous one. We won't be oblivating his family, because he seems to be one of your future students. I told him you were a busy man, but he was very persistent. 'I want to talk to Albus Dumbledore', he said, when one of the Auror's brought him in. He's eight, said he knew some of your teachers."  
  
  
The first thing Dumbledore noticed was the mans inconstancy. First he indicated, though did not say outright, that the boy was Muggle. Then, he said that he asked for him first, before anyone might have told him of Hogwarts.   
  
  
His former student was speaking in code; this bothered Dumbledore immensely. He smiled kindly, and nodded his head. Play the game as he said.   
  
"Well, I guess I might have a few moments to meet with such a persistent lad. I'll even bring two of his future teachers with me."   
  
  
The man nodded, and withdrew out of the fire. Dumbledore grabbed his cloak. "Come Severus, let us find another teacher with a free slot of time, were going to visit this boy."


	17. Broken Games Lead to Broken Fields

  
  
  
  
A.N Did I spell St. Mongos correctly? I think so, but inform me please if I did not. THis is late, I know, but it happened some of my friends still did not have a life played by the time I called them, so I've been places. Anyway, not much to say this time, but that I hope everyone one is having a good day. (Or good easter vacation if it is their week!)  
  
Oh, and one question for reviewers: tell me what you think, and logically not just fancies, Hermione and Ron would be doing for a living. And any other character that has graduated from Hogwarts in the seven years- which is everyone that was even in 1st year at Harry's 5th. Thank you, remember WHAT YOU REALLY THINK THEY WOULD BE DOING, NO WISHES.  
  
  
  
Kjkit, smilez, and danca: a big thank you to you all.  
  
  
  
Gaul1: We'll be finding out soon enough. Not only them, but Hermione and Ron. I did the math right before I wrote this chapter and realized they'd be about 22 years old. Out of Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
Molly Morrison: their only speaking in code because they don't want to cause a stir, and because you can think of how big the stir would be if suddenly muggles knew about magic! Thank you.  
  
  
Silvercrystal77: Thank you, neither can I.  
  
  
Eric2: My fault, I often don't explain things well, because I myself already know. And then when I write it up, I still don't realize the fault, sorry. It will be interest, that I can tell you.  
  
  
Lily Skylo: yes, the first person to meet, of all of them, Snape. How awful. By the thing at the bottom of your review, I think you'll like the next person.  
  
  
Athenakitty: I can't tell, are those words that you have question makes after, spelled wrong? I think so, eeks, I can't even tell. They realize, and we'll see what happens.  
  
  
Wytil: Well, they can't detect it. And the ministry does not follow unfocused magic in young children, there is to much of it. They knew after they 'tested' him at the hospital, obviously after he asked about Dumbledore.  
  
  
Darak: Hehe, I guess you'll just have to be nice, sit still, and hope I glance at my keyboard soon. Don't worry, I as addicted to it as you are!  
  
  
Wiccan PussyKat: I am evil, aren't I? I'm glade you loved it. Yes, pain for Harry is good, and so fun to write. Yeah, I think he suspected that the tiny snake could in no way cause more pain than the 60 or more foot basilisk. He was wrong.  
Yup, I'm Irish! Because they don't bother to check children, and don't bother to track unfocused' magic.   
And of course, Dumbledore wont give them the names of his future students. They had to ask someone, who will get a name, if Devlin's name was on the list.  
  
  
  
_Broken Games Lead to Broken Fields.  
  
_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Dumbledore was unable to find a teacher with a free slot of time, but on his search, he had been able to find Sirius Black, who apparently was interrupting Remus Lupin and James Potter's attempts to grade papers.   
  
  
As they walked pleasantly down of Hogwarts halls, their steps echoing none of Albus's worry; the Headmaster made an attempt to distract his two former students from the potent glares they were now sharing.   
  
  
"Mr. Black, are you not on duty?" Albus was referring to Sirius's Auror job, a position the Ministry had given him back as a token of apology.  
  
  
"Nope, slot off. Rarely get those, but its been slow after, well you know." Again, as it always was, the subject of Harry Potter's disappearance, or death as some were beginning to conclude, was avoided. Even Severus honored this silent rule.  
  
  
"Hmm, slow yes." The Headmaster's eyes clouded over, perhaps trying to puzzle together the reason of this small boy knowing his name.   
  
  
"Were are we going?" It was Sirius. Reluctantly Dumbledore opened his eyes, knowing the pieces he had settled in there rightful places, had slipped away as soon as his blue eyes had opened to the martial world.   
  
  
"To St. Mongos, to see a young child." Sirius furrowed his brow, but did not interrupt the man again.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


ST. MONGOS  


  
  
  
"Please, I have to see Dumbledore." Devlin hadn't meant to say anything at all, but the exhausted, frightened words came out anyway. The Auror was still in the hospital room with him, and no one had fetched his parents yet.   
  
  
The mans dark brown eyes did not move from him, nor did they show any recognition of his words. The man had said nothing for a whole hour, which had been the amount of time Devlin had been sitting on the bed. His arm ached, and he knew that they had not given him any healing potions on purpose.   
  
  
Did they think he was going to be able to tell them something important? Did they think the pain would make it easier to get this something out of him? They were wrong about the pain then; he had never told Voldemort anything about the Order.  
  
  
Devlin was beginning to regret not telling them he had information on Harry Potter, surely they would have treated him much more carefully if he had said those words. But it would have caused whispers, this at least would stay to small ripples of rumors.  
  
  
"I always wanted to be an Auror." He said, and he was acutely aware that he was disrupting the image of him as a Muggle further. He was aware that he was disrupting the games language, for what he was doing was a game. Everything that had led up to this, and what will happen, was part of a game.   
  
  
"Really." The man said, but his voice did not raise at the end to form the impression of a question. Devlin continued nevertheless.   
  
  
  
"Uhah, I always thought it would be good to rescue people. Have you saved anyone recently?" The man regarded him for a moment, letting a bit of a grin form on his face.  
  
  
"Your my first." He said, and Devlin sized the idea that this man had already made a name for himself then. He did not say this aloud of course.   
  
  
"Well I'm glad!" He said, pulling a smile onto his face. It was false, and it felt so, but he knew it appeared real enough. He pondered for a brief moment on how long it might have taken Dumbledore to learn this trick.   
  
  
  
"Hmm..." The man seemed to remember he was not to entertain, or speak, at all to his charge.   
  
  
"They tell you not to speak?" Devlin asked, but he received no answer. "If they did, I can respect that. But, first can I ask one last question?"   
  
  
The man made no motion to say yes or no, so Devlin took that to mean he could speak, but was promised no answer.   
  
"Is Dumbledore anymore forgetful these years?   
I mean, no offence, but my Mom and Dad, will want to see me soon. I can't hide here with you forever."  
  
  
The man looked up, regarding Devlin oddly, before he moved over to the bed, and showed the small child his watch.   
  
  
"The gold one is Dumbledore, he'll be here soon." Indeed, the gold hand, and there were twenty some other colors, was on traveling. It had just landed on Destination, when five minuets later, the door to the room opened.   
  
  
  
  
The first thing that Devlin's eyes were drawn to were the old mans silver beard, then they traveled up to the blue eyes that seemed to be able to peer through peoples emotions, and cut through lies. They had been lost of twinkle, but as green and blue met, the old mans eyes had burst with sparkles.  
  
  
"Hello, Albus." Devlin said, tilting his head in an odd angle, to try and glimpse a man that had yet to walk through the door. After a few attempts to see the mans face, he returned his attention to Dumbledore.   
  
  
"Hello...Mister McClain." For a moment Devlin thought the man had not recognized him, because he had read the sheet that was posted on the door, but he soon realized that the old man had known he would have wanted to be called by that name.   
  
  
Devlin did not move his gaze from the old man, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see another man, wearing an Auror's silver badge, approach the Auror who had been watching him.   
  
  
  
He did not look over to the man, and the man had recently turned from him. Perhaps favoring to ask one of his own, what was going on.   
  
  
The man that's face had been previously obscured by wall, not was seeable. Inwardly Devlin flinched, but he did not portray that on his face. He pushed a grin on his lips, and forced his eyes to twinkle.  
  
  
This was how he greeted a guest at his house, even if when he was younger strangers had scared him. He could remember flinching at his first day of school, for there were children that had worn Ron's red hair, or Hermione's quiet attitude. They had all scared him that first day, but he was great friends with some of them now.  
  
  
"Hello Severus Snape." Saying professor would have been to much, and he relished the feeling of catching the man by surprise. The sneer had dropped for a moment, and the eyes that seemed always so dark and cold, melted, but it was gone within a second.   
  
  
  
The Headmaster had walked over to his bed now, blocking Devlin's view of anyone else in the room. "Tell me how you have been? Were are your parents?"   
  
  
  
Albus Dumbledore's portrayed such grief, that Devlin could almost feel it staling the air. Devlin swallowed, but was relieved that the Headmaster had called them his parents.   
  
  
  
"I feel fine. I'm here alone, I believe they thought my parents would get in the way. Their not here, I haven't seen them in some time."  
  
  
  
"That will have to be remedied, wont it?" Devlin nodded, feeling safe, as he always had, in his Headmaster's gaze.   
  
  
  
"Severus, fetch a potion for the young mans aches wont you?" Snape left without argument, and Devlin wondered if he had already guessed who he was.   
  
  
"I should get _both_, your parents here, Devlin." Devlin gazed down, wondering for a moment if he was really ready to see his mother again, his real one. He was comforted to hear they were alive, but it also left a knot in his stomach.  
  
  
  
_ Would they understand that they were now not his only parents; that he was more comfortable with the idea of being hugged and kissed by Elizabeth and Ryan then them. Would they understand that they would never get Harry Potter back; that if they wanted their son back, then they would have to call him Devlin?_


	18. A Child's Eyes

**_  
  
  
_**A.N **_Waves red flag around:_** pay attention I have an announcement to make. I GOT MY FIRST FLAME! Isn't that wonderful? I've never gotten one before. Thank you **Borg**! I will not be deleting this flame, as I feel it is a kind of passage a FF.net writer has to pass.  
  
  
On other note, I would like to clarify that Hermione is a teacher at Hogwarts. We will learn why she choose this later. Ron's career is still open, if anyone chooses to comment, that would be wonderful.   
  
This chapter was not saved correctly on my computer (it was my computers fault, it had a seizure) so it has been reverted back to a later copy. I did my best to recall the parts I had fixed, but I am sure I forgot some.   
  
  
  
kateydidnt, and R: thank you for the correction, much appreciated.  
  
  
  
Athenakitty: Dumbledore does reconise him, but Sirius did not. I blame Sirius not knowing on a) him being in Azkaban when Harry was a young child, and b) that I doubt the Dursleys ever took any pictures of him, much less saved them.   
Epps that many spelling mistakes huh? Opps, I'll have to fix that huh? Thanks then.   
Yes Devlin still has the scar. I think she will, I mean I hope she does. Conditions, I'm interested in what you had in mind? Everyone keeps asking about that, I'm not sure. What do you think?  
  
  
Sunny smiles: Thank you.   
  
  
  
  
Wiccan PussyKat: *bows formally* thank you. It is getting a bit more interesting, in reading and in writing. Its odd to me to.   
I am trying to find a balance between that young adult in him, and that young child. In both speech and mind. The youth yes, and the parents, yet you are right, he is not getting it in its pure form.   
Yes, that was wakening to think how bad it is, that Severus would avoid making a spiteful comment. Remus and James work jointly on DADA. I kind of imagined Dumbledore gave it to Remus because of how good a teacher he was, and offered Remus James help, so his friends would have something to keep there minds off Harry. But also to keep both Lily (who is also at Hogwarts, and will learn her position later) near Hogwarts, and near to the search for Harry. No, I doubt Severus is happy at all with the arrangement.   
It is cute, but also scary when you kind of picture this eight year old planning all this. I can't wait until Ryan and Elizabeth are told that their son is really an adult. Hehe, I'll be ruining a mothers heart.  
Oh, I would love to be there. Being eight, and demanding to see Dumbledore, and like you, waiting to see how long it takes to be known. Yes, it is a shame the Headmaster is so perceptive.  
Yes the reunion, that will be a difficult chapter to write. Poor me, happy every one else. That's a shame to, for he has tried to hard to elude that part of him. Can you imagine, not wanting to be someone so much, that you willing to leave home (thats what he called Hogwarts), and all your friends. Not to mention Remus and Sirius. I feel bad for him already. Ack, and there's so much more torture to come for him...  
Dang, did I really miss that? Opps, that will be explained in rewrites, or perhaps I can have a side seene.   
Anyway, do you remember how Harry always tried to flatten his hair over it? Devlin wont let his mother cut his hair short; he make sure it covers the scar.   
  
  
  
  
Darak: Hehe, no it is not the end, and no you do not deserve this. I stop my chapters were I do so you all have a lot of questions, and so your all chomping at the bit to read more (maybe a bit of cruelty has to do with it also).  
  
  
  
Wytil: Dumbledore knows its Harry, and it was guilt. Perhaps I did stop to shortly, sorry.   
Silvercrystal77: Thank you, neither can I.   
  
  
Professor Authordude: first I want to comment that I like your name, second to answer your questions. The plot is thickening, and neither can I.   
  
  
Gaul1: Thank you.   
  
  
  
Mikee: Yes, he does. Aw, one letter off, that's a pity. Thank you for pointing it out. You were close to Hermiones: she works at Hogwarts, and took the job both because she liked it, wanted to be aware of changes in Harry's search, and because Hogwarts had one of the best libraries so she can do the research she loves so much.  
I deffently see Ron doing that, I'll take that into careful consideration. Thank you.  
  
  
Ocpawnmaster1: Yes, Devlin stil has his memory from when he was Harry. Thank you!   
  
  
Valanthe: I sorry to hear that, tell about what and I'll try to use my poor skills at explanation to help. Thank   
you.  
  
  
  
Eric2: Thank you for the comments on Hermione and Ron, you were close to Hermione's, and I will take yours on Ron's into consideration.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Dumbledore was a man who had always had an aptitude for predicting emotions, and reading them.   
But often he wished he could stand along the side lines, puzzled by some ones expression as everyone else was. He was sure then, like all people, he would wish to know what that person was thinking, but having the ability to do so; he wished he did not.   
  
  
  
Those emerald eyes, down cast in thought, surprised Albus. They were the same color, as he remembered Harry's being, but there was something more in the ones before him.   
There was relief, fear, pity, hope, and desperation; all of these were emotions to be expected, yet it somehow seemed unreal in this boys eyes. Suddenly, Albus realized why those eyes seemed different, and yet as they were suppose to appear; Harry Potter would never have let those childish emotions, as he thought of them, run across his face. Not in front of his Headmaster, anyway.  
  
  
  
They were a true child's eyes, portraying all emotion that were thought. Albus stared at them for a moment, slightly disappointed as Devlin became aware of these emotions, and pulled them back.   
  
  
"Please, sir, not yet." Dumbledore flinched at the desperation that was tangled into those four words. He rested a hand on the boys shoulder, nodding his head. He leaned to the boys ear, whispering so that none could hear.  
  
  
"Can we start with Sirius? I did not know it was you at first. He was interfering with Lupin's grading." Dumbledore did not mention James, it was best to let the boy calm down a little before mentioning such a thing. A small smile tugged at the child's lips, so, at his nod, Albus, pulled Sirius out into the hallway, just as Severus went in to give the boy his potion.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
HOGWARTS  
  
Tap, Tap, Tap; the insistent noise woke her out of her slumber, and made her drag her legs over to the window. She pulled it open, flinching as the owls wings brushed past her cheek. It was not that late, yet she felt as if it should have been. The day had been to long, the children to loud.   
  
  
  
The owl had perched itself on the back of her desk chair, she stumbled over to it. The note tied to its leg was simple, shot and concise. It was a note asking if she knew if any child called Devlin McClain was on the list for Hogwarts. Because of its strangeness, she ran her wand over the letter, nodding as her charm revealed the Orders symbol.  
  
  
  
She ripped the bottom off the note, and scribbled back.  
Yes, he's eight, I believe. Why? She knew he was eight, she had memorized the list. Even as she wrote the last part, she knew it would be sometime before anyone bothered to answer the letter, if ever.  
  
  
Just as she tied it to the brown owls leg, and sent it back to wherever it had come, she heard a soft chuckle behind her. She needn't have turned behind herself, to know the person. Although she had not heard it in some time, the sound was so embedded into her mind, and often into her dreams, that the face immediately flashed in front of her closed eyes.   
  
  
  
"Hello, Miss Granger." _How strange_, She thought, _that I haven't screamed yet.   
  
  
  
_"Hello." She said shakily, turning now; to meet those eyes that haunted her dreams so often. Only, these eyes belong to another, not to Harry. "Why are you here?"   
  
  
He turned his head to one side, smiling warmly at her. "Why, I am here to tell you of news."   
  
  
"Then tell me and go, you remind me of my old friend to much." Again, those eyes seemed to glow unnaturally, and Hermione found herself trying to pull up Harry's face, the way she thought he would have looked, or would look when they found him.   
  
  
This young man, was still the way he had been, all those years ago. He appeared the age she always pictured Harry; fifteen. It hurt, to look into eyes that mirrored someone she had lost, and it hurt even more, to see this man, at the age of Harry.  
  
  
  
Godric's face had suddenly fallen, and the eyes had lost there glow. Perhaps as her words had sunk in. "You do not wish to be reminded of your friend? But- surely, Dumbledore has contacted you? My old top hat said they got a call, about, well I'll leave the conclusion up to you. Since you know, Miss Granger, I would not be here unless it had to do with my heir."   
  
  
  
Hermione listened, now far from sleep, her heart beating as frantically as if she had attempted to get on a broom- something she was abysmal at, and was sure would have given her a heart attack.   
  
  
  
"Harry, they found him." Her voice was shaking, and she could feel tears trickling down her face. Yet, even with the hot tears running down her cheeks, she was feeling more then a bit numb. It was as if she was not quite ready to believe this.   
  
  
_Why now? How did we find him, is it a false alarm? _She knew it was not false, because, as Godric had said himself, the founder would not be here if it truly did not have to do with his heir.   
  
  
  
Often, after Godric's first appearance, Hermione had pondered if the green eyed legend had known were her friend was. She had come to the conclusion that he did, and, remembering the words that Remus had recalled for her, of Godric saying Harry would come to them; she had been sure this man, this powerful figure, had thought it best to hide, or let Harry hide himself.   
  
  
  
After all, as Godric's heir, Harry was automatically protected by him, and the teen in front of her would do anything to keep his blood safe. It had been a comfort to lay back on, but there had always been the doubts. Everything strung together at his next words though, and they made it feel real; they melted a little of the numbness. The rest would have to be warmed by gazing into her friends face.  
  
  
  
"Not Harry, Hermione Granger, _Devlin._ His name is Devlin McClain now."   
  
  
  
  
  
  



	19. Playing With Dreams

  
  
A.N Hmmm... it seems the first reunion is starting. Humph, so many more to go. Not to mention the McClain's. Um, I guess I don't have much to say.  
  
  
Athenakitty: My, you have a lot of questions. Um, can't answer, yes, can't answer, can't answer, can't answer, and: perhaps shocked and happy?  
  
  
  
Amyaggie: Thank you. I think shocked and happy come to mind, hehe how fun. Ah, hooked like a fish, cause then I think you ought to pull the hook out before it begins to hurt, or hooked like you can't stop reading? I hope its the second. I do, but also add to it.   
  
  
Brittany: Thank you. Love long chapters huh? What's long to you? Maybe I can pull it off.   
  
  
GwEnDoLyN P. MaLfOy: A big cliffy eh? Well then maybe you don't want to read this one until the next chapter comes out as   
well. Thank you, I'm still amazed so many people like it.   
  
  
  
Wytil: Another name yes, but he still had his memories.   
  
  
Eric2: Hmm, good question, I can't confirm that.  
  
  
  
Silvercrystal77: Thank you.   
  
  
  
Wiccan PussyKat: Hehe, yup my first. I think I probably annoyed him further. I know my grammar is not perfect, but I felt like showing him some of the worst. Oh, well like I said, it probably annoyed him further that I didn't get angry.   
Poetic, right, I'm not poetic at all. Oh, I'm not implying that he is thoroughly a child. In fact, in later chapters I am sure his eyes will not be a child's. What I meant by it was that he is not as guarding as he used to be. He had had to hide little from his parents, he just had to watch himself more closely. It was first nature to him, I suppose, when he was Harry, not it is second. He had changed, I'm trying to get that into everybody's minds.   
Grr, do you realize how many drafts I've already gone through on that chapter? I thought I ought to update though, so the next chapter will have the real meeting, this only starts it. trauma, so difficult to write, yet all my stories have it.   
I think it as surprising as it was in the fifth book to find out she was a prefect. Yeah, I guess so. That did seem like Hermione. A dreamboat? I suppose so, I'm never attracted to people I write, so I wouldn't know. He is nice though, and mysterious, I guess I can see were you're coming from.  
Epps Hermione, I'm not sure. Do we have any idea about how she reacts to change? I think she takes it well, don't you. Ah well, I'll find out soon. Thank you!  
  
  
  
Professor Authordude: I thought it was funny. Is it your real name, I mean on Fanfiction.net, because he said you have stories.   
I was laughing for a whole three minuet when I read it, it was so unfounded. Self control, what are you talking about. I insulted him far better then I ever could by yelling. I mean, if I just answered his review, then most people would have skipped over it. I said it in my Author Note, were quiet a few people look. The meeting begins in this story.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Playing With Dreams  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It was blue, the kind of bright blue that reminds one of a child's toy, and it smelt of burnt rubber. Devlin glanced up at Severus, asking silently if the professor really expected him to drink it, or if this was joking and would pull the real potion from his pocket in a moment. It seemed this was the real one, for the professor scowled cruelly down at the boy, and said gruffly.  
  
  
  
"Mr. Emerson, could you hold Mr. McClain down, I think we might have to force the potion down him." Devlin brought it to his lips, then, and gulped the huge amount down in seconds. It burned on its way, but left a cool sense after its passage. _It was worth it,_ he decided, as he felt the flames in his injured arm decrease.  
  
  
Mr. Emerson, the Auror, had risen halfway from his chair, and Devlin, noticing the way he seemed almost frightened of Snape, guessed that he was a former student of Hogwarts. Devlin could see the man relaxed at knowing he would not have to restrain an eight year old. He felt sorry for the man.   
  
  
  
Snape said nothing more, merely took a seat, which were ample in the small room, crossed his hands over his chest, and continued to scowl at the world in general. Strangely, Devlin found it comforting. Something's never change, he was happy that the quote was true.   
  
  
Right then, Devlin saw his old professor as a fall back, something that was predictable. He was sure the professor knew who he was though, knew he was Harry James Potter, son of James Potter.   
  
  
Yet, he was making no comment, and more strangely, Devlin caught him once lowering his glare, and gazing at the child in an almost civil contemplation. He was comparing him to something that was not stupidness, it made Devlin smile inwardly.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
HOGWARTS  
  
  
  
  
She was pulling on her cloak, not caring that it was rumpled and bunched in places. And further not caring that her feet were bare, nor that she wore only pajamas under the thin cloak. She only bothered to button one clip on her cloak, and then spared a glance at Godric, who was sitting at her desk chair; shuffling her papers carelessly.   
  
  
  
He had gotten Hermione to give back his huge red and gold cloak, though she had always wondered why he had never just summoned it. He had regarded her strangely when she had quickly asked, while pulling her cloak on.   
  
  
  
"I gave it to you, I could not merely take it out of your closet." She had found the comment strange, for he had never offered it to her in words, merely draped it over her as she had cried, and then fallen into a fitful slumber.  
  
  
  
She had kept it, half hoping this legend would come back for it. Half hoping, in that childish part that we all keep in teenage years, that she could threaten him with it; make him tell her were Harry was, or she wouldn't give it to him.   
  
  
  
He had never come, and by the end of the year she had stuffed it into her trunk, and brought it with her to home, a hidden part of her still unwilling to leave it unguarded at Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
"Come, your showing me were he is." She used the voice that had even the Sytherin's stopping in their tracks, and obeying her. It did not seem to work for Godric though, he merely pushed back the chair, and came to stand before her.   
  
  
  
"I can't." He said, as if he had never expected her to demand this of him. She glared at him; he would not tell her that her friend was alive and well, then refuse to show him to her.  
  
  
  
"Why?" She demanded, and perhaps her glower did not match the status of Snape's, but the raw anger and frustration in it, produced the same feeling that the elder professors cold and empty one did.   
  
  
  
She found it interesting then, that he merely frowned at her, as if he was unaware of what he made her angry; yet he seemed also to understand so well.  
"My power, it will set the alarms were he is whirling. Perhaps if you gave me ten minuets, I could suppress it, but I do not recommend it."   
  
  
  
"Yes, well I do. Hurry up do what you must to get past whatever alarms, but I swear, more then ten minuets, and..." She let him draw his own thoughts on what he might do, then sighed.  
  
  
  
"I suppose it is best for my charge as well." He seemed almost sick for a few seconds, but Hermione could not place why.   
  
  
  
Out of his pocket he drew a vile. It had strange runes caved on its wooden sides, and its smooth rounded surface seemed to draw the eyes away from the idea of its contents. It did not have the desired effect on Hermione Granger.   
  
  
  
"What's in there?" She asked, only to have Godric sigh. He, after all, had not expected her to throw away the chance of knowledge, just because a mild spell prompted her not to ask.  
  
  
  
"It is similar to a pensive," He took a deep breath, arching both his eye brows as Hermione nodded quickly, as if she wished to fast forward his words, so he would be closer to the point.   
  
  
  
"It stores power, not thoughts. And can keep a tremendous amount. Many use it so the other they are dueling overlook them as unimportant. I have two, I sometimes used them both, but today I only need to stoop to Dumbledore's power level, after all, he must too use these to get into the ministry. I estimate he knows just how much he can walk into the ministry with. And to top it off, I've previously lost power from this form, it's so young."  
  
  
  
Hermione stared at him for a moment, then nodded, still digesting his words. _Or perhaps,_ he thought, _she places them some were in her mind to consider later.  
  
  
  
_"Do it then!" She suddenly snapped, perhaps realizing she had delayed her own rule.   
  
  
  
  
"Of course, M'lady." He replied, and was immensely amused by the anger he extracted with his words. She had known he had mocked her, just very politely.  
  
  
  
He placed his hand over the top of the bottle, and with practiced ease, watched as his blue magic flowed into it. It was peaceful for Hermione to watch, yet Godric was feeling no calm. When had been the first time he had visited his charge in a hospital?   
  
  
  
_Three, four years old,_ a tiny voice whispered in his head. When his heir had been a child, they had often talked. Harry had never been told his name, no, but he was the youth who always seemed to make his uncle stop hitting him, or who sat by his hospital bed, reading a book he always brought in his endless pocketed coat.   
  
  
  
But he had never been able to stop every beating; there had been many he was not there for.   
  
  
  
ST. MUNGOS  
  
  
  
  
The Headmaster was staring thoughtfully at him, watching the emotions cross his face. _He was dreaming,_ the juvenile thought was the first that had jumped into his mind, but he quickly drowned it. The next was that he had gone insane, that Azkaban's side effects had finally effected him.  
  
  
  
That seemed a rational choice, so he held onto it; while his mind also cautiously began to wonder if it was true. If he was not insane; if his godson, James and Lily's son, had been found.  
  
  
  
"It is him Sirius." There was a gentle firmness to the headmasters distant words. Sirius tried to focus on it, to pull himself away from his thoughts.   
  
  
  
"I can guarantee it is your godson Sirius, he wants to talk to you." _Even if it is a dream,_ Sirius thought, _I'm willing to play along with it._ Sirius had often dreamt of finding Harry, but never as a child. In all of those dreams, he had played along with it. But he had always woken up when he had touched the boys shoulders. _ I will know soon,_ he thought, nodding his head at Albus.  
  
  
  
"What do I say to him?" He asked. It was silly, really to ask Dumbledore this, for he had spoken in his dreams so many time to Harry. But somehow, the words of his dreams, were not returning to his memory.  
  
  
  
"Ask him what his favorite thing is, asking him about his family." Sirius nodded, the part of having another family not yet digesting in his mind.   
  
  
  
Perhaps he should have let it sink in, before he walked back into the room. Perhaps he would have realized then, that it was not a dream, for Harry had always flung himself at Sirius in his dreams; there had never been a complication.   
  
  
  
But he did not pause, he went straight back into the room, into a game he did not know the rules to.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	20. Contradictions of First Thoughts

  
  
  
A.N: Um, I think my brain is turning to mush, because I can't thick of anything to say in my Authors Note. Wait, something I was suppose to say is coming to me...Yeah I think I got it. My live journal (), has an update on it.   
  
Although the previous ones have been boring, and I am not saying this one is any better, this one is a side scene from the story. One of Devlin when he was younger, I plan to do one of a few other characters. If people would like to give ideas for scene, I would love to consider them! Check it out please, and leave a comment.  
  
**_IMPORTANT_**: I'm in a bit of a sarcastic mood, so don't be insulted with my answers. I apologize fore hand.  
  
  
Athenakitty: Ah lets see which of these I can answer ::flips though restricted answers to restricted questions for chapter 20::. A) Does he ever? Another words, I can not even predict him, and I control him. B) I believe so, in less that chapter some how gets burned, or deleted. C) There are several ways for that to go... I will leave the guessing up to you for a while. D) it is looking unlikely. Thank you.  
  
  
Kateydidnt: Yup. Is he a regular? I thought I recognized his name. Thank you.  
  
  
Ill kawaii doom: Thank you, that is nice of you to say.  
  
  
Professor Authordude: did you really need to tell me that, especially since i'm checking this at midnight. That is the worst time to get ideas in my head, now I'll dream about it...ICK! Thank you. Sirius needs a hug? He gets one in this chapter..  
  
  
Eric2: We will see a lot of question done in the next, or the one after that, chapter. He could, but would he? That is the question.  
  
  
Wiccan PussyKat: Ah, it is nice to read a regular reviewers comments. Hello again, yes Severus knows. Um, that little twitch at the end, that worried me. Are you alright, had to much coffee (if you drink the stuff)?   
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Godric already knows were Harry is...he's known for a long time. I suspect that will end up infuriating Hermione.  
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I have granted your wish. We don't get much of his opinion on Devlin in this, because he really doesn't understand just yet...but he will.   
.  
Hmm.. I do know. I was quite bored today, and took it upon myself to read your bio, hehe. To late for what? If its the abuse, we'll have lots of memories.   
.  
Yeah, I kind of left everyone hanging that has wanted Harry to meet Sirius for what like...at least two chapters. I'm not sure its perfect, but it will do.   
.  
By the way, I'm doing side scenes, as you might have seen in my A.N, and posting them in my live journal. Check it out, if you like, there is Harry angst there. Thank you.  
  
  
Silvercrystal77: Thank you. Ah, one must be very confused and...well off at the moment, to find that sneer comforting. Although...aw well can't ruin it for you.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
_Contradictions of First Thoughts.  
  
  
_  
  
He had his eye's closed, those emerald green eyes were invisible now, how he wished they were open. The door made little noise as he closed it softly, watching the boy for any signs of consciousness. He sighed in defeat; the child was asleep.   
  
  
"Dunderhead; he's _faking_." Severus rose, passing him at the door. "If it's your turn to watch the boy, then I will gladly leave." Snape swept through the door, shutting it loudly.   
  
  
A slight smile had formed on the small boys face now, and Sirius could just catch him say. "Goodbye Severus, nice seeing you."   
  
There was a giggle at the end, then the child settled back into silence; eyes still closed. Sirius swallowed, chanting his first sentence over and over in his head, _Hello Devlin, its Sirius, how are you?   
_  
  
Dumbledore had talked to him about the boy, and had said to call him Devlin.   
  
  
  
"Hello, Ha, Devlin," Even with the practice, he had still started to say Harry. One eye opened, then the child sat stiffly up; watching Sirius's movements as he came across the room with an alertness that it frightened the adult.   
  
  
"It's Sirius, how are you?" He felt stupid, saying it was him, because he could already see the boy had recognized him. Yet, the boy had made no movement to speak, no movement, as he always did in his dreams, to hug him. That unnerved Sirius further.   
  
  
  
He sat down at the edge of the boys bed, the Auror at this time seemed to realize this was more personal, and slipped out of the room. The young man had assured himself that he was still following orders, just from the door, outside of the room. Mr. Black was certainly above his rank, and so he figured he owed the man some respect.  
  
  
"How are you?" Sirius repeated. His hand was clenching his pants fabric; he wanted desperately to grab the boy in his arms, yet he didn't want this dream to end. The boy merely stared at him; green eyes seeming to consider the man before him.  
  
  
  
"Hello Sirius. I'm fine." The words were small, spoken hesitantly from the child's frowning lips. His next words were even lower, so that Sirius would not have heard him if he hand not been sitting next to him. _ "How are you?"   
_  
  
The words, even just his voice, made Sirius relax. "I've missed you so much...Devlin. We've all been looking for you." He would have continued rambling his thoughts, his pain, to the boy, but the child's eyes had darkened. A guilt swept over those childish features, yet the emotion was not one that a child could have mustered.  
  
  
  
"You're not happy then?" Sirius frowned at the odd question. _Happy, I'm happy now!_ He wanted to tell the child, yet he knew that was not what the child was referring to. What _did_ he mean?   
  
  
  
"I gave them back to you, Sirius, you were still sad?" For a moment Sirius thought that the child had been Dumbledore, the pensive voice had the same tone.   
  
  
Those green eyes were gazing at him, seeing _everything_. Sirius turned to the boy, and he brought his hand to hover over the child's cheek; he wanted to touch him, comfort him, but he withdrew his hand. He wanted more to talk to him, to never wake up. Sirius glanced down at his hands, they were trembling.  
  
  
  
Suddenly, there was a soft stroke on his cheek, a touch, a caress. Harry had touched his cheek, then in a soft commenting voice Sirius heard him say, "You don't look as haunted, it must have helped some."  
  
  
  
At that distinct moment, Sirius realized it was not a dream. Harry..._Devlin_, was beside him, alive, breath, seeing, hearing moving- he stopped the mental list, turning to his godson, and flinging his arms around the boy.   
  
  
  
He didn't care now, that he was the one crying, that an eight year old was patting his back, and whispering comforting words in his ear; he was just to glade to be embarrassed.  
  
  
  
Later, after telling Moony, Prongs and Lily, maybe then he would shrink in his chair and try to laugh it off, while turning   
beet red, but right then- it just didn't matter.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
HOGWARTS- HERMIONE AND GODRIC  
  
  
The halls of Hogwarts seemed to tower over her, as if trying to intimidate her into going back to bed, and there deserted floors seemed to pull at her feet, screaming at her that she was not suppose to be there. It always felt like she was intruding on _its_ private time.   
  
  
  
  
Godric had a hand on the wall, brushing it as they walked down the hall, like a child with a stick to a fence, and he was pensively staring down the halls. She regarded him for a moment, curious at why he was doing such a thing; she dare not ask though, because she dare not speak in the darkness, were any student might be hiding.  
  
  
  
Suddenly, the youth turned, tipping his head at her. "Your tip toeing, why?" It was a strange accusation, and Hermione felt like pointing the obvious out to him. He didn't wait for her response though.   
  
  
  
"Hogwarts will keep us safe, hidden and out of view. Do not fret _professor_, you students won't want to leave their dorms. _Even if their portraits would let them out."_ The last part was spoken softly, after he had turned from her and begun to walk again.   
  
  
  
She was left frozen, trying to understand his words. Abruptly, Harry came to mind, and she marched on ahead, leaving her urge for knowledge behind; her friend was more important.   
  
For a moment, if she could pretend that the young man before her was wearing hogwarts robes, his hair was a bit amore messy, and she was still fifteen; Hermione could almost imagine she was back at hogwarts, a student, sneaking around at night with her best friend.  
  
  
  
  
They had reached the Hogwarts Great Hall, and the doors leading to its exit. Hermione watched as the wizard before her opened the large doors, and beckoned her forward.   
  
  
  
The air was chill, but she welcomed the wakefulness it brought with it. The sense of surrealisms seemed to be gone now, and with its departure, she could feel the gears in her mind unfreeze.   
_Not Harry, Hermione Granger, Devlin. His name is Devlin McClain now._ Godric had said, and now those words sunk in.   
  
_Devlin McClain; had he hidden from them on purpose?_ No, they would have sensed his magic, if he had cast any concealing charms, and Hermione was sure, even in the Muggle world, he would have been spotted without them.   
  
_  
Had he lost his memory?_ Perhaps, it would have to be considered.   
  
  
_Had he been kidnapped, and one of Voldemort's servants had wiped his memory, hoping to have the boy in his charge when his Lord rose again?_ Again, it was a good possibility, one that made Hermione shutter.  
  
  
  
"Mr. Gryffendor?" She waited for his nod, though he did not turn around. "You don't have to tell me where Devlin is; I'll follow you as blindly as you like, but tell me if he is hurt? If he still remembers?"   
  
  
  
Godric turned to her, a dawning expression coming to his face, as he took in her distraught features. He seemed to consider her words from a moment, then he raked a hand through his hair. It looked like Harry's now.   
  
  
  
"What Miss Granger, do you consider hurt? I can assure you that he remembers, but hurt is an awfully general word."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
HOGWARTS- INSIDE DIFFERENT ROOM.  
  
  
  
_Whispers_, they were crowding in his ear, tempting him to open his heavy eyes. Tempting him to meet the world, when it was a good five hours before he was suppose to. He tried desperately to shoo them away with a hand, but they did not leave. Finally he rolled over, intent to find out if it was his wife disturbing him.  
  
  
The spot were her red hair should have laid, copper red in the low light, was empty. He frowned at this, his exhausted mind, having trouble deciding if this was all that unusual. The whispers came again, and he shot up in the bed, suddenly aware of a door rattling, and his wife's curses.  
  
  
  
"Lily, what's wrong?" He asked, stumbling through the room as he tried to regain the feeling in his legs. When he reached the living room, now bouncing on one leg out of injury, his wife looked up at him.   
  
  
She had been shaking the knob on the door, cursing at it, and she had just been about to ram it with her full body weight, when he had entered.  
  
  
"It won't budge. I can hear footsteps out there. I've tried every spell, and it wont open! Its like something has locked us in here. And can't you hear those whispers? It sound like little fairy murmurs." James glanced in concern at the door, as he to tried to open it. Then a rueful smile came to his face, despite the situation.  
  
  
  
  
"Now Lily dear, we both know we both have an entirely different idea on Fairies; you picture them as they are portrayed in those misleading Muggle books, I however, know them out of acquaintance. These murmurs are to nice to be of there making." The grin on his face vanished as soon as he caught the look on her face: her lips were pinched together, and she was pointing her wand at him.  
  
  
  
  
"You met pixies, James, not Fairies." It had been an augment James always loved to bring up. Lily had always adored Fairies when she had been young, and, as James could catch from the one time he had met her parents, had decorated her whole room with the theme as a tiny child.   
  
  
  
"Fine, I met Pixies. Whatever I saw, they were devilish." His wife put her wand away, while James pointed his back at the door.   
  
  
  
Nothing worked...an hour later and they'd tried every spell. From first year spells to beyond seventh. The whispers were still there, jingling almost disapprovingly.   
  
  
When James had rammed into the door, and then sat on the sofa to rub the bruised shoulder, those whispers had turned to laughter; deep and rich. There were entertained- they were watching them...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
NEXT MORNING- MINISTRY.  
  
  
  
The room was a caucus of chattering, because it seemed there was not much out of office work to be done. Those without paper work to do, were gathered in the center of the room; filling the room with the crowded, skitter speech of to many people confined in a to small place. He wanted to cover his ears as he passed them.   
  
  
  
It was much quieter at his end of the Ministry, and even then, the chattering was merely about Quidditch. This was the annoying, to-many-different-subject-over-lapping-each-other, noise. finally, and thankfully, he reached the office he had been called to; Emmeline Vance's.  
  
  
  
Emmeline was an older Witch, who had work with both the Order of the Phoenix, and the Ministry, for some time. She worked in the section most Wizards liked to call,_ Explain Magic to Muggle's.   
_Its real name, though he could hardly remember it, was: Muggle Introduction to the Magic Community.   
  
  
  
They're main load of work was the sending and talking to Hogwarts Muggleborn parents, and explaining the school to them, they also dealt with such things as Werewolves who had been Muggle's. All and all it was mainly paper work after the first visitation.  
  
  
Her brown hair was sleeked back into a loose pony tail, that he thought she might have just put in to avoid it falling off her shoulders as she bent over some papers on her desk. She glanced up as the noise from outside filtered in, it then disappeared with such strength, as the door closed, that he had to conclude she had a silencing charm on the room.  
  
  
"Hello Mr. Weasley, please take a seat." He did, wasting no time to see if this woman was the impatient type. He had seen her at the Order meetings, but has not socialized with her out of them.  
  
  
"What can I do for you?" He asked, getting to the blunt point. She shuffled some papers into their proper order, and put them in a file.  
  
  
  
"Hmm, I wanted to know if you could do me a favor?" Ron shrugged in non committal. "Dumbledore asked if I could find someone from the club to, ah help with a case. He wanted me to make sure it was someone from the club that I asked to do this job."   
  
  
  
Ronald nodded, waiting for her to continue. "Sadly, their are not many in my division that belong to it, and so I had to consider others that are just done the hall. Therefore, this is a favor."  
  
  
  
"What is it?" He asked, knowing he would end up doing it anyway.   
  
  
"I need you to talk to some parents, Muggle ones. Their son has just been committed to St. Mungos for a dangerous snake bite. Dumbledore asked for...basic magic to be explained. Only Merlin knows why, because we were simply going to obviate them all, but Albus knows best." She slid the folder over to him, and he caught it; reading the child's name: Devlin McClain.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	21. Muggle's and Magic

A.N: I don't like this chapter, it is badly written. I know its not horrible but it below the standard I would have liked it to be. Um, its drawn out, but I felt I should update. I'm a bit late in coming, because well it was a busy weekend.  
  
I'm _15_ now, since it was my birthday, on Monday the 26th. You know how your parents used to ask you if you feel any different, and of course we would say yes, well I think I imagined feeling different all those times, because I don't really. I suppose its just the excitement that children mistake for a change, oh well.   
  
Um, I'm not going to answer mail on this chapter, because FF.net is having problems had I have not received all of my reviews; therefore, it would be unfair to only answer some. I'll answer all of them next time, if your question has not been explained by this chapter. Thank you!  
  
  
  
_Muggle's and Magic.  
_  
  
They where waiting in the small room, sitting on the two chairs that had been set up for them, and waiting for someone to explain this mess to them.   
  
  
She was staring impatiently at the empty chair, which was across from them, where that person should have already been. Her husband was leaning the table, elbows propped on it, and hands supporting his chin; they both wanted this explanation over with, so they could see Devlin.  
  
  
Finally a man entered, carrying a simple brown folder. As he sat down in the chair, he spread the papers from the folder out on the desk, eyes gazing at them for a moment. Neither Elizabeth, nor Ryan spoke, fearing that their interruption would only lengthen this conversation.  
  
  
  
"I am Ronald Weasley, and will be asking you some questions. You are Elizabeth and Ryan McClain, correct?" His voice was formal, yet he seemed unused to this kind of thing.   
  
  
"Yes." Both of them readily supplied, hurrying him to the next question.  
  
  
"And your son, he is Devlin McClain?"   
  
  
"Yes, and we would like to see him!" Elizabeth had been the one to add to the answer, a bit exhausted by this whole ordeal, yet unwilling to rest without knowing her son was fine.   
  
  
"You will, I'm sorry for the delay, but it is necessary." He sighed, feeling foolish that he didn't even know how to reassure these people. "Your son, he is eight?"   
  
  
They nodded, and he continued, looking into both distraught faces in turn. Ron glanced down at the papers, which were Devlin's Muggle and, although very new, Wizard ones. One word caught his eye: adopted.   
  
  
"Do you know of your sons biological name?" It might not be important, but he wondered how these Muggle's had managed to adopted a Wizard's child. The Magical world has their own adoption program, this child should have been in that.   
  
  
"No, I found him." When Ron gave him a puzzled gaze he continued. "On July 31, I found Devlin in the woods about a mile from my home. Elizabeth and I had already been trained in the necessary classes that are required to be able to adopt. We had thought about adopting, since at the time we had not been sure we were going to be able to have children on our own. So we adopted him."  
  
  
Ron had flinched at the date, forcing himself to keep listening. That had been the day Harry had disappeared, that had been his friends birthday; he had always supposed Harry's disappearance was Voldemort's 'present'.  
  
  
  
"Hmm, so you are not aware of his...heritage?" D_id a Wizard really get abandoned?_ Usually Wizards were a bit more careful about having children, and would most likely leave the child at the Wizard Orphanage if they decided there was no other option.   
  
  
  
The Magical world did not take kindly to people who threw their children to Muggle's...  
  
  
  
"No. No one came forward." The mother, Elizabeth McClain, appeared more frightened by the moment. Her face went pale with each of his questions; he was starting to wonder if she had any blood left in her face.  
  
  
"Is, is Devlin alright?" Ron gazed up a the woman, and smiled shakily.   
  
  
"Your son is physically fine, but there are some things you should know, about your son." Elizabeth found her heart frozen, for that moment, waiting for the man next words to free it. _His parents, did someone recognize him?_ _No, she answered herself, they couldn't he was so little..._ Still, the mere possibility left her feeling sickly inside.   
  
  
  
  
"Sir, what, what is wrong." The man shook his head, gazing back at her as if he had forgotten they were even there.   
  
  
"I, I must confess, I'm not to sure..." _We should have just obviated you, what is so special about your child? What is Dumbledore thinking? _ He did not say this aloud, of course.   
  
  
  
For a moment, Ron seemed unable to picture how these people did this job everyday. Certainly his respect of them went up a notch. _ Magic_, he thought, _what is a good way to start.   
  
  
_Suddenly, an idea sprung to his head. Ron reached into his pants pocket, and withdrew something. Slowly, so that the McClain's had plenty of time to examine it, Ron placed the thin wooden stick, more often referred to as a wand, on the table.   
  
  
  
"This is a wand." He said awkwardly, noticing for the first time he was blushing. A first year would know this, and it felt absurd stating it. Like telling someone _that_ is _grass_, everyone knows what the springy stuff is.  
  
  
  
"Your son, he's a Wizard." He did not look up to meet their puzzled gaze; he knew it would only make it harder to continue.   
  
"That snake, it was a Magical one. Those people that appeared, are the Magical words equivalent to your Policemen. And lastly, I have been sent to explain, in basic, this new world to you." He paused, but still did not look up to meet their gaze.   
  
  
"At eleven, weather this had happened or not, your son will get a letter, excepting him to Hogwarts; a school that trains young Wizards and Witches." Finally he looked up. Both were staring at him in the oddest way; he could not explain it. Unexpectedly, a smile spread across the mothers face.   
  
  
  
"He looks like a Wizard." She said, smile growing wider. "As long as you promise this isn't a joke; I believe you. I always thought there was something about him..." Her voice trailed off, just as his own confusion grew; he hadn't thought it would be this easy.   
  
  
  
"Looks..?" He sounded almost pathetic to himself. Mrs. McClain stopped her smile, and reached for her own pants pocket.   
  
  
  
Ron thought, for a brief moment, that she would withdraw her own wand, but she did not, merely a wallet. What she with drew from the wallet, had him stumbling from the chair, falling on the floor in his haste to get away from it.   
  
  
Elizabeth's words fell past him, but she had stopped with his reaction. _'His eyes, there such a pure form of green; they always seemed like magic to me.'   
  
  
_   
The boy in front of him, or rather the picture, was Harry; only this boy was younger, much younger.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
HOGWARTS GROUNDS-  
  
  
  
Half way to the iron gate that connected Hogwarts to the Magical village of Hogsmeade, Hermione found herself unable to move. Not even the thought of Harry, could make her legs bend.   
  
Although, she decided, she would allow them to bend even if it meant falling to the ground, anything to not feel this desperate numbness, like ice.  
  
  
"What do you mean?" Her voice reminded her oddly of a helpless puppies wine; although, she was more concerned from another _person_, then if she was getting a _biscuit_. Her legs had apparently awaken again, because she found herself a few steps closer to Godric then she had been before.   
  
  
He took a step back, and she found it intriguing that he was more frightened by her tears then he had been of her glower.   
  
  
"Harry, was never fine..." He said, trying to turn around, and keep walking. Hermione merely jogged beside him, wiping at her eyes fiercely.   
  
  
  
"What do you mean?" She asked again, it seemed this ice was tearing at her heart, closing in on it, threatening it with its coldness. She felt as though, if her heart missed one beat, it would freeze over, and each time her foot fell onto the solid ground, she mistook it for that missed beat.   
  
  
"I am sure _Devlin_ is fine, what I meant is what I said: _Harry_ was never fine." Hermione did not stop, she merely quickened her steps, forcing, now, Godric to hurry to meet her.   
  
  
  
"You talk as if they are two different people, when it is merely a new name." Hermione stated, back to her formal voice. Godric frowned for a moment, as they reached the gates, then while he open on heavy iron door for her, he answered.   
  
  
  
"Physically, they are the same. Mentally; I'm not sure they are the same..." He let his voice trail off, as he slipped through the gates and closed. Both paused for a moment, gazing at the path ahead, perhaps judging how far they must walk for the anti-apperation wards to fade away.  
  
  
"How do you know so much about him?" She prodded, hoping he would not notice her scavenging for information. He did, and he merely smiled at her, and rushed forward.   
  
_Why would he not answer her?  
  
  
  
  
  
_


	22. A Boy With Green Eyes

  
  
  
A.N: Hello again, sorry this is so late. I was able to slam down the writers block that had erected itself stubbornly for my novel. I kind of lost track of time... Anyway, I'll answer questions, but do not feel bad if I did not answer yours. Ff.net is still not delivering all of my messages, I'm going to send them an e mail to day. Anyone know how?  
  
  
On another topic, it took a bit of drafting to get through this. I'm going to be a brave writer, and acually write the whole conversation that Dumbledore has this the McClain's about Devlin being Harry. Ugh, that is going to be painful, but be exited, it will be fun for you. ::Mummbles about unfairness::  
  
  
I, myself, can't wait to write Godric seeing Devlin. Nor for Hermione and Ron to properly get to talk to him. How am I doing on reactions, do they seem weird? I am going to be rewriting this story, once I reach a neutral, non cliffhanger, point.   
  
  
  
I**_MPORTANT: I have heard that Ff.net will not be allowing thank you's to reviews on Ff.net. I am not sure if this is true or not, but will be listening to it until it has proven faulty or not. Because it is also said that you will be removed. Therefore; please go to my livejournal (link can be found on bio) to read review answers, and we will use that for a while. Review here, but if you have a question you want to get answered, post it in both places. Thank you.  
_**   
  
  
ON WITH THE STORY.   
  
It snapped open, just as the flames in the hearth changed to green. He found himself falling through the door, into the hallway, that he had just been ramming into. He fell painfully on his chest, and tentatively touched a heat flaring rib. It was not broken, but it ached.   
  
  
When James finally edged into a standing position, and managed to grab hold of the door frame to hoist his body weight up, he caught a glimpse of the head bobbing in their fireplace- it was the headmasters.   
  
  
  
"I've been trying to get through for forty three minuets now. What happened, it kept blocking me." Lily told him of the whispers, and the door. Dumbledore laughed outright, his eyes bursting with cheer.   
  
  
"Ah well, I suppose it is only fair that he play that trick. He must think I was telling you a bit quickly. I'm sure he'll be here himself quite soon. Back on track, I believe there is someone waiting for you at the hospital. It will be a few moments before you may see him, but I feel I should not leave you out."  
  
  
By the expression on Lily's face, James knew, she was worried it was either Remus, who had taken to helping the world see his kind in better light, and who many wished dead for that reason. Or, Sirius, who worked as a Auror, and had to deal with the crazy, stupid people who thought they could be the next Voldemort.   
  
  
"Who is it?" She managed to get out, paling with every second the Headmaster did not answer.   
  
  
"Not Remus nor Sirius, though Sirius is here...I must leave now, it seems we have other company. Come by floo, and wait for me in the front office."   
  
Both nodded, though their minds were still unclogging from the fact that none of their friends were hurt.   
  
  
  
  
  
ST. MUNGOS  
  
  
  
  
At some point or another, they had pulled themselves asunder, but to ask him how long he had stayed in his Godsons embrace, he could not answer.   
  
All he knew was that the Headmaster was in front of them, and he, Sirius, was sitting at one of the chairs beside the bed.   
  
  
Devlin was smiling, but Sirius could not bring his face to join the child's. The sensation of happiness, and unsettled confusion, pulled at each other, so that Sirius was left in a kind of numb limbo.   
  
  
  
Devlin, Harry, was talking about a Mother and Father, smiling joyfully up at the old man, and telling him some tale, but it was not the Mother and Father, that Sirius knew.   
  
  
  
It was not the two adults, they were talking about, that had, and still were, searching for Harry. It was not Lily and James; it was someone else, someone Sirius could not imagine hugging the boy before him.   
  
  
  
Then, still in that limbo, Sirius watched the door open, and Ronald Weasley enter. Devlin shrunk back, then seemed to consider inching forward, but he did not.   
  
  
  
Ron, eyeing the child for only a moment, and nodding at him sadly, motioned for the Headmaster to follow. The young Weasley had recognized the boy, but something was holding him back from outright saying something. Something was not right.   
  
  
  
  
ST. MUNGOS- MCCLAIN'S  
  
  
  
Again, they were sitting, and still had not seen their son. Ryan was thinking what they could legally do to these people, since he was a lawyer, and Elizabeth was leafing through a book she had brought for her son.   
  
  
They had been allowed to talk to the caring doctor, who had assured them that their son was fine, and a bright young man.  
  
  
  
Elizabeth, for her part, did not believe him. His smile had been to wide, and he had not been looking at any charts. And Ryan, well, he was still running over legal issues, when the old man finally opened his mouth to speak.   
  
  
  
"My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I would like to talk to you about your son. I have seen him, and I too, believe he is fine. He did not seemed to be in any pain, and he was smiling." Apparently, those last words were wrong, because Ryan sighed and raked his hand through his hair.   
  
  
  
"Don't judge him on that! He'll never tell you if it hurts!" He sounded defeated, as if this had happened before. Mr. Weasley was nodding, agreeing readily. Mr. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was staring strangely ahead.   
  
He was not smiling, nor though did he seem to be smiling.   
The expression looked oddly like the far away, thinking, one that came over Devlin so often, Elizabeth found herself noticing.   
  
  
"Mr. Weasley tells me your son is adopted?" Ryan wondered briefly when the young man had been able to talk to this man with out him seeing, but he blamed it on his preoccupation of thoughts.   
  
  
  
"Yes, why does this keep coming up. He is our son, and that gives us just the same rights to see him!" The old man held up a calming hand, halting Elizabeth's words.  
  
  
  
"Of course it does." He said, and Elizabeth found herself calming under his gentle gaze. Ryan was still furious.  
  
  
  
"Well then, _sir_, if you agree, then you should also agree to us seeing him!" There was contempt laced into that whisper, contempt for a man they barely new. _Yet,_ Albus thought, _parents will do anything for their child.   
  
_  
  
The man had stood up to him, had been willing to threaten him, and Albus was smiling now. These were indeed Devlin McClain's parents, and worthy of the title.   
  
  
"Of course!" He said cheerfully. "But I would rather discus this out of the child's ears." Instantly Elizabeth was alert, thinking that there were reproductions with the injury.  
  
  
"Nothing is wrong with his arm, be relieved, but I would like to discus...his name." _That was an odd way to put anything,_ both parents thought, but they listened.   
  
  
  
"Devlin McClain...is your sons adoptive name?" They nodded, and had gone pale. _The name_, Ryan thought, _he's trying to tell us gently that someone is claiming him. _His stomach plummeted down, and his throat tightened with angst.   
  
  
  
"You are the boys parents, and have every right to him. I assure you that I understand he to, has the right to choose." He paused, as if deciding to delay any longer.   
  
  
  
"He has wonderful, green eyes; you have told Ronald Weasley the same. I once knew a child with those eyes, his name was Harry Potter, and he.. He had a very interesting story."   
  
  
  



	23. Not Pretending

  
  
A.N: Go to my live journal, link is on my bio, to see answers to your reviews. Er, I've had a lot of school to do, as of late, and it is my allergy season. I HATE allergies. Really those are all the excuses I have, so I will try to do better from now on...  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, all the their copy rights are held by Warner Brothers, and JK Rowling, and other small parties. I do own the name of Devlin McClain, and the the whole characters of Elizabeth and Ryan McClain.  
  
ON WITH THE STORY  
  
Blue, a night blue. He had changed it into a deep shade of blue, and that was Rowena's color. He sighed, it would have to do, for his red would have attracted a better part of attention.   
  
He had disposed of the cloak, vanished it for now, and had changed the tunic into a night sky color. His pants were Muggles, he would have fit oddly in both worlds, but it would have to do.  
  
Hermione had charmed some shoes for herself, and at his request transformed her night clothes into a more appropriate outfit. She had retorted at first, that she wanted to get there fast and would waste no time on appearances.   
  
That was until Godric had told her it "will do no good to walk in the doors, and thought crazy. I'm sure, as a hospital, they have plenty of empty, lockable, rooms."   
  
She had done as he had asked, and they had continued to the hospital. Once they had reached the end of Hogwarts anti-apperation wards, they had disappeared, only to reappear a block away from St. Mungos, the length of their anti-apperation wards.   
  
Hermione walked with brisk, long, strides, fed up with the time it had taken them to get this far. Curiously, Godric seemed to be moving almost hesitantly. Hermione went to scold him for lacking behind, only to realize that he was in pace with her.   
  
It was not the speed at which he moved that made her think of him as hesitant, but the they way he was peering at his feet, instead of their destination, and that his shoulders were hunched.   
  
She sent a fleeting regard to his face, but he looked away, and hurried on. They were at the old building, with the outdated clothes in the window before she knew it, and Godric had gotten them inside, before she was even aware of the street being replaced with the lighted hall.  
  
She went to the desk, to ask for a boy by the name of Devlin. While the old woman behind the desk, flipped through paper, Hermione happened to spot Lily and James, sitting in the waiting chairs.   
  
She left the desk, telling the person behind it not to bother, that she had spotted some of the family, and went over to the Potter's.  
  
That was also then that she noticed Godric was not at her side, nor anywhere in the room.   
  
HARRY AND SIRIUS.  
  
They were alone again, but neither of them moved. He had thought that they had filled in the hole that had separated them, left them awkward. And yet, he knew it would take longer to fill it in; because he could not pretend to have been lost for only days, nor could he pretend that he had only one pair of parents.  
  
"Sirius?" The pale blue eyes turned to him, but the man behind them was not listening. Devlin sighed, and flopped back on the pillows. The idea of coming here, seemed so muddled now. What had he been thinking?  
  
_That Sirius wouldn't care who you loved. That he would smile at Mum and Dad, not scowl at their names. Oh, Sirius, perhaps all of these years, I asked to much of you?   
  
You were my godfather, someone who seemed to love me, who would protect me from anything, but most of all, though indirectly, you were an excellent tool against my Uncle. You protected me, perhaps more then even you knew, just by your name. I did not know you all that well, though, did I?  
  
_Devlin frowned to himself, he was accustomed to having adult thoughts in his head, and childish appearances outwards, so he furrowed his brow, and but an eight year old's idea of concentration on. It was like a custom, but he dress up more often then just halloween.  
  
_"ry...Harry._" Devlin turned, and frowned up at Sirius, who was hovering over his bed. "You spaced out for a minuet kid, didn't hear me." _No Sirius, I just don't answer to Harry anymore.  
_  
  
HOGWARTS-REMUS  
  
Remus stumbled awake, as a ring reverberated in his ear. It was annoying, but he knew better then to ignore it. It was a call from Albus. He pulled out the mirror that all Order members had, and called the Headmasters name into it.   
  
A smile face sprung unto the surface, and all Remus could do was scowl to himself. It was at these time, when the Headmaster calls in the middle of the night, smiling, so it is not Order business, this close to the full moon, so he knows Remus is aching, that the Defense Professor envies Snape's willingness to so contempt.   
  
"Yes Headmaster?" He asked, and Remus is thankful the old man cannot offer him a lemon drop through the connection.   
"I would like you to come to St. Mungos, we have found a boy." He dropped the mirror, that was all he need from the Headmaster to know who they had found.   
  
He was dressed in less then a minuet, and had run all the way to the limits of the wards, in less then twenty. He was tired, sure he would need a Pepper Up Potion, and he had forgotten his badge, which would have gotten him to the hospital quicker, but he did not stop to rest, nor to go back and get it. 


	24. Not Expected

A/N: IMPORTANT. I up loaded a rewritten chapter for the first chapter. Please read it, it puts light on evidence that should have been in the last one, thank you. Again, I tell you that your answers will be on my livejournal.   
  
ON WITH THE STORY  
  
"Harry Potter, you see, had found his destiny, before most can even say they even spoke a full, well grammar, sentence, for his was formed before he was born, and confirmed at the age of one. Indeed, his first year of life, would be full of love, and confusion. His parents would move many times, in that short year, all the time, trying to escape from the clutches of Tom Riddle, and man who preferred to call himself _Voldemort_ or _The Dark Lord_."  
  
Dumbledore paused here, to survey the couple. They seemed confused, they had made no connection yet.  
  
"Voldemort was a Wizard, a very powerful one, who was, and I do not use the term often, evil. I am not sure I know why, Mr. Riddle, became what he was, but that is another story. Lily and James Potter, finally settled in the last of their hiding places, and decided to use the strongest form of concealment, the Fidelius Charm. It is a complex spell, and relies on a person, the Secret Keeper, to hold the location in their very soul.   
  
"As long as this Secret Keeper does not want to speak of the location, then this man could not have seen Lily and James. In fact, the spell is so well done, that Tom could have had his nose on the kitchen window, and Lily doing dishes in there, and he would not have seen her. He would have seen a barren room, with not one living in it.   
  
"Obviously, this Secret Keeper, has to be of absolute loyalty, and can not be on the side of Voldemort. I urged them to pick me, as I am well known for being against Tom, and he feared me, to an extent. James, politely refused, and informed me they were going to use Sirius Black, a man I was sure was not on the Dark side, and who James said 'would die before giving our location away'. It seemed the best person they could have chosen, since they had refused me.  
  
"Only, something went wrong, and the Potter's were attacked. It seemed that, although not known for many more years, Sirius Black had come to the Potter's and offered a better choice. 'Everyone will know you picked me, he'll come right to me. But if you pick Peter, (Peter Pettigrew another friend of James's from school though not as well as Sirius) then he'll come to me, and I won't have it. No one will ever guess Peter's the Secret Keeper.' He had said.  
  
"Reluctantly, James agreed, and they switched without telling anyone. Not even me. You can imagine then, that when the Potter's were attacked, who everyone thought betrayed them. Not Peter, no one knew they had changed, but Sirius Black. Even I did not see the truth.  
  
"James Potter, was killed in the entry way, attempting to give his wife and child time to escape. He must have known, I am sure, that he would die. He sacrificed himself, for a child, and woman he loved dearly.  
  
"Lily Potter, had run up to the nursery, and picked up her child. She rushed to the door, but he was already standing there. Blocking her only escape. She hugged her child tight, and fell to her knees. Then she begged, begged for mercy to a man who had lost his heart many years ago.   
  
"He laughed at her, told her to step aside, but she did not. She continued to beg. 'Not Harry, not Harry. Have mercy, please take me instead.." She cried. But he did not spare the young Potter, he killed the mother, and moved to lift his wand to the boy.   
"What he did not know, was that as he cast The Killing spell on the boy, that he was fulfilling his part of the prophesy."   
  
Elizabeth took a breath, so Dumbledore paused and allowed her to speak. "This prophesy, what was it?"  
  
"Ah, it seems I have made my first mistake in this story. It is a long one, and I seem to have lost one of its many threads. THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES...BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES...AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT...AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HANDS OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER OTHER SURVIVES...THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES.  
  
"What Voldemort was unaware of, was that as he lifted and cast the Killing spell, Avada Kedavra, he did not know he was fulfilling his part of the prophesy. AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, Voldemort did not know, that with that spell, and the lightning bolt scar it would leave on the child's forehead, that he had marked the child as his equal."  
  
Dumbledore could see a beginning spark of connection flare in the two, so he hurriedly continued, before questions began forming on their tongues.  
  
"This spell, the same that had killed Lily and James Potter, and many before them, for it has no counter curse, no potion to cure it, nor can it be blocked by a shield- no one had ever survived it. Yet, this time, it rebounded on the caster. It had bounced off of Harry Potter, and struck Voldemort. He did not die, but became a shadow of himself, with out a body.   
  
"Young Harry Potter, was picked up from the ruble. And brought to his Aunt and Uncle's, were he would stay until he was eleven years old. At which he time he would receive his Hogwarts Letter, exempting him to the school, and bringing him back into his world.  
  
"He would be surprised, when he was brought back, to learn he was famous, for he had saved the Wizarding World from Voldemort, and many thought he had even killed him.   
His first year would prove other wise though, as Voldemort found his way into the castle, aided by one of the teachers."  
  
WAITING ROOM...  
  
Hermione sighed, and sent one more fleeting glance around the sitting area, but Godric was still missing.  
  
"Who are you looking for?" Hermione snapped to look at Lily, a bit startled by the her voice. With Harry Potter, back in the mix, she had almost forgotten she was twenty two, not fifteen, and that the Potter's were alive.  
  
"No one, just waiting, same as you. I'm.. A little lost on patience is all." Lily reached out a hand, and squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.  
  
"It all right, dear, we all are." She let her hand drop, and led Hermione to a chair. "Have you seen Remus by the way?" Hermione shook her head, so they settled themselves down to wait longer.  
  
"We don't know who were waiting for, do you?" Hermione swallowed, and stared down at her hands, fingers laced on her lap.  
  
"I have an idea." She admitted, closing her eyes as if to shut out the pain of something. She could almost see James lean forward, that lopsided grin coming to his face. That smile, that always seemed to come when everyone else was frowning.  
  
"Who?" He asked, and she could even hear it. She could hear Harry in him also, a constant reminder. She wished he had not asked that, wished that they had sat silently, even if that meant they thought someone had died. "Hermione?"   
  
Again, she wished no one was speaking. Devlin McClain, and Harry Potter; one in the same, yet from what Godric had told her, quite different.  
  
Devlin McClain, the boy, the eight year old boy, that she had gotten a letter asking about. Harry was not older, he had not forgotten- he was a child. _How had that happened?  
  
_  
Hermione was so caught up on this thought, on trying to picture Harry as an eight year old, and realizing that she had never seen a picture of him at such an age, that she never heard Ronald Weasley come out to shake hands with Lily and James.   
  
Nor did she hear him tap her shoulder.  
  
Startled, she jerked her head up. He was smiling, and holding a cup of hot cider out to her. "Hello Hermione."  
  
"How did you get here?" Her question was rapid, but she was to nervous to be casual. He smiled and sat down, holding the glass for her until she realized he had it.   
  
"I brought the McClain's here, and, ah, I left the room were Dumbledore is trying to explain things to them, because I couldn't stand remembering it all." Hermione turned to him with both sympathy, and interest written on her face.  
  
"How are they?" Ronald shrugged, then catching sight of Hermione's mouth opening to demand he told her, he went to explain further. He would rather skip the lecture, and move to the end result of it.  
  
"There very nice, and to any extent willing to understand what he is. I didn't stay for the breaking news though..." Silence stretched, then, finally realizing Ron was not going to explain by himself, Lily spoke up.   
  
"Breaking news?" She was leaning over in her chair, both hands around the hot citer Ron had also brought for her, intent on understanding something presumed she had missed.  
  
"You haven't told them Herm?" He asked, and she guiltily shook her head. He grimaced, realizing he was suddenly stuck with the job. He did not want to explain anymore today, he, himself, wanted so many things explained to _him_.  
  
"They...they found Harry." He rushed it out, as soon as he realized that saying it slowly would never work. James and Lily seemed not to hear him for a moment, then James choked, and spat out, the citer he had been drinking. Lily seemed to wake up, but she only raised a hand to her lips.  
  
James said a string of unpleasant things, under his breath, and for once Lily did nothing to stop him. Finally, James rose, and went to move tot he desk, most likely to ask for Harry Potter's room number. Hermione pulled on his arm, and whispered in his ear.  
  
"Its Devlin McClain, James, and I don't think its what any of us are expecting." She could not bring herself to tell him he was going to meet an eight year old, not like the teen in the photos.   
  
DUMBLEDORE...  
  
"And so, Harry Potter entered his third year, told that a man was hunting him, wanting to kill him. Somewhere along the way, Harry learned that the man was his Godfather, and that he had been close friends with his father. He began to hate him, for he also learned, as which was the common belief, that Sirius Black, had betrayed Lily and James, and in doing so, led them to their death."  
  
JAMES POTTER...  
  
James got the room number, and ran to it. Two flights of stairs had to be climbed, the three hallways run, not to mention the delay of bumping into people, and friends trying to ask him 'How are you, James.' , and 'What are you doing here, Mr. Potter.', and most annoying, 'Stop running.'  
  
_Stop running_? Were they insane, he had to find his son. He had to make sure it was real, that he was not dreaming. That he had not fallen unconscious while ramming into that door, if, right then, Lily was hovering over him, in reality, and trying to wake him up.  
  
He reached the door. He had his hand on the knob. He could not open it, his hand would not twist. Then he heard a sob from inside, and a bed squeak. The knob was moving, but James was the not the one opening it.   
  
"I want to see my parents...my...Elizabeth and Ryan. Why didn't anyone tell me they were here?" There was a muffled reply from a man, not anyone James knew, saying.   
  
"Dumbledore sent me to tell you, that he is in a meeting with them." A click, the door was open, but had not been pulled back.  
  
"A meeting? I don't care. I want to see them!" The door was flung open, and James suddenly found himself staring at an eight year old. A boy, with emerald eyes, and messy jet black hair.   
  
DUMBLEDORE...  
  
"The Shrieking Shack, it was named, and that was were the grim dragged the child. When Harry and Hermione arrived, they found Ronald on the floor, his leg broken. He tried to tell them it was a trap, that the huge dog that had dragged him in, was in fact, Sirius Black.   
  
Harry whirled around, and Sirius Black closed the door from which Harry and Hermione had entered. He looked like a skull, with matted hair down to his shoulders.   
He told Harry that he had thought he would form for his friend, that his father would have done the same thing...."


	25. The Lion, Stag, Grim and Pup

A.N: I am terribly late in updating, I know. My computer had a mayjor, er, blackout, and had to go to the shop. Then when I got it back, I had lost the program that the story was on. So, of course, it was an old program, and I had lost it right? Yup, so I had to buy a new one. Eeps. I almost lost my novel too!!!!  
  
This chapter is dedicated to Wiccan PussyKat, who had a birthday in May. Happy belated (really) Birthday Wiccan!  
  
ON WITH THE STORY  
  
The person was to small, the hair to dark, the face to childish, and the hands on the doorknob too tiny and young, for those eyes to belong to. They were Lily's eyes, and...one others. But he was not a child; James and Lily had already given into the realization that their son would be an adult when they found him.  
  
Yet, there was no denying, too, the resemblance that this boy held to both him, and to his son.  
  
It seemed an eternity, that both orbs, brown and green, were frozen on each other, but that feeling of shocked numbness vanished the moment the child pushed past him, tears shining in his eyes, and into the hall.  
  
James's body was not as quick to respond, and he did not even try to command his arm to reach out for the boy, he was still frozen. The child, he could see, was running down the hall, dodging adults that attempted to tell him to walk. Half way down the hall, he turned, and stood quite still, as he watched Sirius come out of the room, and try to run after the boy.  
  
The child was far down the long, wide, hallway that stretched on every floor of the hospital, and Sirius was hardly near him when the child paused and looked back. The boy seemed split between the feeling that escaping was futile, and that he still should try.  
  
He had not rounded a corner though, so James could clearly see a figure walk up behind the boy, and place a hand on the child. The figure, clad in a blue shirt, pose was protective, and he stared at Sirius in a warning, wary way.  
  
The teen, James was still to far to see any detail, bent down and whispered something in to the child's ear, but like a dueling bow, his eyes never left Sirius. And Sirius did not approach further, for several moments, because, being Padfoot, he could see animal like alertness in the teens eyes. He did not dare lift his own gaze though; he knew that it would keep the other staying semi frozen.  
  
James began to walk to them, as he noticed his friends unwavering gaze. He to, could feel that pounding in his gut, only he was not a dog, or a wolf, he was what would be hunted, and had the sickening feeling that this animal was the hunter.  
  
DUMBLEDORE...  
  
"Together, Lupine and Black forced Ronald's rat, Scabbers, to show his real identity. Mr. Pettigrew's, you must understand, features always resembled that of a rats. It is not surprising that he turned into the small, nerves animal. He was loyal, in entirety to the Marauders, until something stronger came along. Peter went with power and protection, and he proved this far more when his life was in danger of ending.  
  
He was willing to beg, on his knees, everyone in that room. Peter was willing to justify, to Harry, why he killed his parents..." Hermione stared once at Lily, then at Remus, who had just arrived, before turning her gaze back to the stairs where James had disappeared.  
  
LOBBY...  
  
Ron had gone to get more hot-citer, but Hermione knew he was trying to get to Dumbledore and warn him that James was heading his way. Lily stood, but Remus pulled her back down.  
  
"No good to get scattered about Lily, then we might miss something..." For a moment Remus' eyes glazed over. Lily, beside him, missed it, but Hermione did not. Remus' brow drew together, but it did not remind Hermione of all the times before she had seen him concentrate over a book, or statement, or even trying to decipher one of his first years answers; it reminded her far more of a wolfs ears going flat against its head. Of anxiety.  
  
Remus' hand slipped off of Lily's and, despite his latter words, he stood.  
  
"Remus?" Hermione heard herself ask, the professor had gone as white as bleached parchment. "What's wrong?"  
  
The mans chest gave a heave, the first breath since he had stood. Hermione eyes widened for a moment, she tried to remember what date it was. Her breath evened out once she realized it was a few days from the full moon, she had almost thought he was ready to transform.  
  
Lily had noticed her friends glazed over eyes to; only, she seemed to have a slight idea of the problem. She dug in her pockets, and pulled out a shrunken potion vile then, She unshrunk it quickly, and tapped Remus' shoulder to get his attention.  
  
The eyes were strangely more captivating, more amber and less of his gray, then unusual, as his head snapped like a freed rubber-band to Lily's face. Lily did not seem taken aback though, and Remus took the potion. Hermione could see from the coloration that it was a pepper-up potion.  
  
"Remus, can you tell me what happened?" Lily was still resting her hand on his shoulder when he finally got his words together.  
  
"James, he's not here, but I swore I smelled him." It was then that she realized Remus only knew James had gone to find Harry, not that Harry might have been hurt. She opened her mouth to explain. "Someone who smells like him...he was sick, he... he was bleeding."  
  
And that was when she realized that the thought that Harry might have been bleeding had never crossed Lily's mind either, or perhaps more likely with Lily's intelligence, she had not wanted to believe it.  
  
"Remus? Is Harry all right? Is it Harry?" Remus was not looking at her, but he had sat back down.  
  
"It smells like Harry, but, but, he. Harry. This boy is a pup..." 


	26. Explanations 1 of 2

A/N: Check my live journal for review answers, which will be up by the end of the day. I was so surprised, because when I checked in on my reviews today, I had 200! Yippee!

ON WITH THE STORY

"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger found Sirius Black at the edge of the lake, cowering from the Dementors that flew above them. Harry screamed for his friend to think of something happy, while he raised his wand and tried to do the same. I am not sure what he thought of that night...what memory he deemed fit enough...

Hermione could not do it, not with at least a hundred Dementors closing in on them. Harry yelled the spell, EXPECTO PATRONUM, over and over again. Remus Lupin told me at the end of that term that, every time Dementors came near young Harry, he heard his parents last night, his mothers pleading, so I am sure those screams accompanied his own.

Harry Potter could not manage it; the Patronum spell is advanced magic, far beyond third year, and then, not even those students are expected to fight more then a hundred of these deadly creatures, so I am not surprised Harry at the moment could not complete the task.

Harry Potter kept whispering it though, making sure that, at least as he was awake, not one of them would touch his Godfather.

Then, one Dementor got past his last feeble shield, and lowered its hood...

I have never had the unfortunate experience of seeing a Dementors face, few have, so I cannot tell you what horrors Harry saw, but I am told it is like looking at the pure form of death.

The Dementor grasped Harry's neck, with its two scaly hands...it bent Harry's head up...ready to suck his very soul out. But, once again, something saved Harry Potter from death: a light from the other side of the lake.

The silvery light grew brighter and brighter, and the Dementor had dropped his head.

Something was circling them, driving the Dementors away. Harry lifted his head one last time, using all his energy to get a better look at the light. He could see the form of an animal, and it was as if this animal was formed of only this light, cantering back across the now empty lake. It was a stag, and, welcoming the stag back to the other side...Harry Potter thought he saw his father...

JAMES

James took another step forward, and the eyes of the teen snapped onto him, watching his every step. The child tensed in front of him, but the teen held his shoulder, preventing even the idea of escaping. When he reached Sirius, his friend began to walk by his side also.

They were close now, not more then ten feet, and James thought he heard the teen, his head bent down to the child's ear so that only his dark hair was seeable, whisper to the child that he had to explain now, that it would be alright.

Sirius and James stopped sharply, as the teen lifted his head, and his features became apparent. It was Godric Gryffindor.

With a hand still on the child's shoulder, he asked the two adults if perhaps they could continue back to the room, in which they belonged.

James nodded; to numb to realize it was Sirius this man was speaking to. Sirius nodded as well. When he began to walk and James did not follow, he dragged his friend along until James got the feeling back in his legs.

REMUS

Remus took a deep breath, as his mind went reeling again. Remus could smell the lingering sent of the child's blood, Harry's; the same had smelled at the graveyard those seven years ago. And with the search for this one persons blood, the rest arose. All of the blood that had recently come through that room suffocated him. He wanted to shake his head, and run out of the room.

Somewhere, a huge bubble of anger burst. If their was a person to blame for Harry's injures, they would pay, even if he had to some how sneak away from Sirius and James on a full moon. He would give up never tasting human blood, for Harry.

A wolf pack, will take in any puppy, and if a puppy is born into a pack, the whole group takes care of it. Harry was James's son, and so was also Remus's cub. No one hurt his cub.

And, somewhere, that beast that always lurked behind his amber eyes, growled and snarled, and tried to escape.

It scratched and bit at his chest, thinking horrible thoughts for those who hurt Harry.

Remus would be surprised then, when he learned his cub had done this to himself. Perhaps though, the werewolf would recall the thirteen year old he had taught, and his suspicions he had never acted on.

But none of that mattered now, that was still to be discovered. Remus did know, though, that he needed to calm down, before that wolf did escape, before he ran into something, and did something he regretted. He needed to wait, if only for his cub.


	27. Explanations 2 of 2

A/N: I know this is not very long, but I am having a bit of trouble scheduling writing in. The story really starts to move faster soon, so I thought I would get this part out of the way quickly.

I do have one thing else I would like to say, and it is to Ellsie: I was kind of glad to get you review, because you stuck up for something you believed was correct. However, I was disappointed that you did not first wait for the meeting between Devlin and James, because then, you would have realized how much he still does love them. He did see his parents in the mirror, but he was even far older them 11 when he turned into the baby, a lot has happened since then. If Harry Potter had been placed, not with his aunt and uncle, but with someone who loved him and told him of his parents, do you think he would have seen his parents in the mirror? Or you do think he would have had other dreams, because some cared enough to explain his parent to him?

We are shaped how we live; Devlin hasn't lived with his Aunt and Uncle this time around. Still, I am glad to see you were not afraid to say what you thought. Thank you, Ellsie I enjoyed replaying to this.

ON WITH THE STORY.

Devlin desperately wanted for this room to have some color, a book, a picture, something he could ask about, or change the subject to. But there was nothing, only empty white chairs, and a just as crisply white bed. The metal of the bed frame seemed so off, in the world of white, as did Godric's blue tunic, and Sirius's leather jacket.

He chewed on his bottom lip again, a habit he had wanted to quite many, and more then eight, years ago.

Devlin gazed at the man, his father, for a long time. He symbolized two things to Devlin; a life which he left, a world were he had killed, even if it had been a monster, and a family he had dreamed about since a small child. The two emotions battled out in his chest; rushing and ramming at each other until Devlin was not sure which one was winning.

_Just do it, _a small voice whispered. **How**? Another cried desperately. _Your name_. It answered, so Devlin stepped forward, and held out his hand to James Potter.

"Hello..." He said, giving the mans eyes a quick, direct stare. "My named is Devlin McClain, but before they called me that; I was Harry Potter." When he had said he was Devlin the man had seemed to draw into himself. _He knew whom I looked like; Devlin thought, and he thought he was wrong once again._

Then, when he had said he had been Harry, the man had seemed almost unwilling to believe it, while at the same time desperate too.

"Harry?" His voice was horse, as if he had forced the word out without first inhaling. Devlin nodded, and then suddenly shook his head; Godric stared in amusement at the two gestures.

"I was Harry, but...everyone calls me Devlin now." Faintly, James smiled; he cared little at that moment what Harry called himself.

"Devlin..." James seemed to be testing the name, all the while his smile growing. "Its nice to see you again." He said, and tears were brimming behind his glasses now.

Kneeled down to Devlin's level, and reached a hand out to the boys face. When Devlin did not protest at the contact, he pulled the boy into a firm embrace. James buried his face into the mop of black hair, still crying.

Softly, muffled by James's shoulder, Devlin whispered, "You don't have to cry, I'm alright. I'm alright, you don't need to worry anymore." More softly, meant only for himself, he whispered, "I never realized it would work, I never thought it would hurt you...I never dream you would miss me like this."

LOBBY.

Down in the lobby, Remus, Hermione, and Lily watched as Ron led a man into the hospital. The man was not unique at all in his appearance, but the small cage he held in his hand, covered with black fabric, lent him a kind of mysterious aura.

Ron led him over to their group, his smile shaking.

"This is Mr. Conrad, he's helping in Mr. McClain's biting ascendant."

Beside Lily, Remus swallowed, and perhaps seeing this, Ron continued quickly. "Mr. McClain was bitten by a poisonous snake. A very rare one that must be caught before it hurts more."

"Yes, yes. I brought my only other one, to show the boy, make sure he remembers what it looks like." He lifted the cage up like a lantern, careful not to shake it. Lily leaned away from it.

"Now were are the parents, he's a minor right?" Ron nodded, much to Lily's confusion.

"Then I need the parents permission to speak to him." The old mans gruff voice reminded Hermione oddly of Mad Eyed Moody's.

"Well, the headmaster is talking to them. But, err, you can talk to him in a bit." Ron took a step away from the man as he turned to him, the cage almost touching his stomach.

"No, no, lad, I need their signatures." He glanced at Ron's taught face and added, almost laughing, "Don't be so squeamish, the cage is locked an sealed with charms."

"Yes, well, there might me a bit of difficulty with who should sign the paper." Ron attempted to smile again, but his green face betrayed him. Hermione wondered what kind of snake was in that cage to scare Ron so much.

"Are you simple, man, I said the parents. You know, the woman who gave birth to the brat, and the man who married her?"

Ron raised his eyebrows, and shook his head. "I am not simple! He is adopted, but we have also just found the real parents, and the real ones did not know of the adoption."

"Fine, fine, have all of them sign it!" Ron clenched his jaw, and then took hold of one of the mans arms, dragging him to a place they would not hear.

DUMBLEDORE

"I could not tell you how, but Sirius Black escaped, along with a Hippogriff that had been sentenced to death that very day. Harry and his friends were informed of the mans escape when I visited them in the hospital room. They were very disappointed..."


	28. The Greatest Reward

  
  
The embrace was warm, and gave him the quiet feeling of protection. As Harry Potter, he had yearned for this kind of comfort from others, it had been the greatest reward someone could have presented him with, to hug him. And, oddly, from this man, it felt as if was still the best reward. The little voice that had so often had fallen pray to Aunt Petunia's fowl words of his parents not loving him either; rejoiced. They had missed him, he was crying for him. They had loved him; James would not let go of him. He was afraid to lose him again.

"Don't ever do that again, Harry." Devlin did not bother to remind the man that he did not go by Harry anymore, the man, he was sure, barely realized he was not speaking to a baby, or an adult.

"I wont, I promise." He whispered into the man's ear, as he was pulled closer.

"Never, ever, ever, ever." His mother used to say those words to him, when he would wake up with a nightmare, and ask her never to leave; he thought they worked just as well with James.  
  
Suddenly, he found himself pulled slightly away from the dark shirt that had blocked his vision, and looking instead into the glossy brown eyes of his father. The eyes, that reminded him so much of a deer. For a moment, his mind slipping back to the past, he remembered.

_It was wrapped in red paper, with an equally red bow sitting innocently on top of it. Waiting, the four-year old, Devlin knew, to be ripped apart. He knew better then to touch it before his father came back with the camera though, so he tried to guess what might be inside it.   
  
It was perfectly square, that meant that the present was in an empty box, meant so no one could guess what was inside. **Drats**__!_

_  
  
His two, although almost three, year old sister tried to grab at the present as his mother passed by the counter holding her. Elizabeth laughed and pulled the infants hand away. "Want it." The baby said, pouting.  
  
_

_"No, that's Devlin's remember? When he's done opening it though, I think Devlin has a present for you." Yes, indeed, the four year old had not been stupid when they had passed by a toy store the other day. He had pulled at his father's shirtsleeve and said, quite persuasively, that it would not be fair to Deirdre that she did not get a present.  
  
His father had risen on eyebrow, ready to explain to his son that he was not being unfair as it was his birthday, but his mother, beside him, had given him a warning glance. "Good idea, Devlin. It is very nice of you to think of your sister like that."   
  
_

_So, up in his closet, high on a self where Deirdre could not reach, was another present.   
  
_

_His father had come back with the camera; he smiled into it, and tried to jump for his present. No luck, he wasn't reaching it. His mother soon handed it to him though, after they all had walked into the living room.  
  
_

_He stared at the ribbon for a moment, glancing at the hand wrapped gift. This happened every year to his parents; they urged him to open it. He smiled, then, slower then a most four year olds, ripped off the paper.   
  
_

_Devlin had been right; there was another box to open before he could reach the present. He left the box for a moment, carrying the ribbon in his hand, and walked over to Deirdre. She giggled as he pressed the ribbon onto her hair.   
  
_

_"Say thank you, Deirdre." She did, all the while pulling the ribbon out and moving it in her hands. "Now go and open the box, Devlin." His mother urged, watching him from the couch.   
  
_

_He sat down beside it, and pulled the box away. For a moment, he stared transfixed at the stuffed animal inside of it. It was a deer, which was clear the antlers and brow fur told that much._

_It was a strange present, the four year old realized, looking up at his parents. One did not walk into a toy store and buy this animal, a teddy, sure, but a deer with antlers, no. _

_"Its like the one in your book, Devlin." The child smiled, the book he had read to him every night, the book that had that strange deer in one of its pictures. He pulled it out, showing it to the camera, and then hugged it. _

_"Prongs!" He said clearly, in the voice his parents knew meant it was never going to change._

_"That's a very good name, Devlin." His mother said, as he joined her on the couch. Later, they would wonder were he had gotten the name, and dismiss it as his imagination. After all, he did already have a stuffed dog called Padfoot. _

"Oh Merlin, Harry, you scared us. Where have you been, has anyone hurt you?" Devlin shook his head. He would wait a moment more before correcting this man.

"No, I'm fine. I'm not hurt. 'sept what I came here for, but they fixed that." He added as his father's eyes caught the bandage on his arm.

"What was it?" James asked, and when the child hesitated, he looked up to Sirius.

"A snake bite." Sirius offered. His voice was stiff, as if he feared that if he let it relax he might say something that he wanted to keep secret. "Like he said, they fixed it."

DUMBLEDORE

For the fist time in half an hour, one of his audiences raised their hands. Elizabeth. Dumbledore nodded for her to speak, following with a trusting smile.

"You said Sirius Black was innocent. That Harry Potter knew this; the man had even asked if Harry could live with him. Why would Mr. Potter be disappointed?"

"Well, I can only say he appeared disappointed. I cannot assure you that he really was. I will say, just as the Hippogriff is very polite, so was Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter, I also heard, did very will with Buckbeak in the class. Did you know, Mrs. McClain that a Hippogriff can be ridden, and can fly? That animal can reach heights about the castle. And, they are such elegant landers; Buckbeak could have landed on a roof of the castle, with out so much as a quake. Very interesting animals." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, as Ryan raise his eyebrow, not quite believing the hints the man had lain out.

LILY

Lily, Hermione, and Remus, watched as Ron whispered fiercely to the man. The man paled at one sentence, and seemed to reconsider his insults. He glanced back at them, almost in an apology. Then, before anyone of them could protest, Ron led the man out of the lobby and up a pair of stairs. The same stairs James Potter had run up.

Remus wrung his hands, Lily chewed on her lower lips, and Hermione looked unseeingly ahead in thought. No one spoke. No moved to follow Ron. Although outwardly all coped differently, all of them were not too sure they wanted to follow Ron. Would they find Harry, or Devlin, hurt? A thousand possibilities rushed through them all, unable to be stopped.   
  
Then again, none of the thoughts were all that new. Their friend, or son, had been missing for years now, all of these question had been asked before; it was just worse when the answer was up a few flights of steps, and you still couldn't see it. When you still couldn't be sure.

Lily shuffled her feet, as if fighting down the urge to stand up. Remus startled at the noise, and frowned at her. "Lily, you can go, you know? He is your son, no doubt James has already found him."   
  
She looked all the more doubtful at the mention of James_. Should I intrude on them? _ Her emerald eyes asked. "Someone has to keep James from crying openly, he'll regret it later." Remus offered, smiling kindly.

Lily looked to Hermione; she hesitated, and then nodded. "He should see you together." She said, a strained smile creeping over her features. "The McClain's should see you together also. Go ahead, you should."

Lily stood, and made her way to the stairs. She paused at them, looking up them in an almost foreboding manner, and then bravely took the first two steps as one.

The halls were brightly lit, and without any furnishing. Lily glanced from one door to the other, peering closely at the numbers. In dawning awareness, she realized she did not know the door number in which James had gone. She paused for a moment, glancing around for a nurse to ask. No one. She peeked into a room, and spotted a nurse, who was making up the crisp white beds.

"Excuse me miss?" The nurse turned to her, smiling warmly.

"Yes?" Her voice was tired, but only seemed to give her more of a comforting appearance. "What can I do for you dear?"

"I'm looking for..." She paused, what should she call this boy? Harry Potter, or Devlin McClain? "...Albus Dumbledore. Could you direct me to where he might be?" Yes, surely Dumbledore would be with her son. No need to spread panic with the name Harry Potter.

"The next level." She paused her, and pulled out her wand, whispering a spell that conjured up a list. "Take the door labeled private, which will lead you down a narrow hallway, and then go into...I think it is door 9. The nurse at the desk can tell you. Will that be all dear?" Lily nodded, and made her way up to the next level.


	29. Pictures

Chapter 29- Pictures  
  
She barely noticed herself pass by the stairs, although she felt every time her foot landed with a slam. Heart pounding, mind blurred to unidentifiable thoughts, she paused. Perhaps she had gone to far, the stairs seemed awfully long. Or perhaps her shaken mind was not cooperating with time? She slowed down, forcing herself to rein in her thoughts; make her mind work for her needs.  
  
'Ask the woman at the desk, she'll know.' The woman, that's right, just find her. Sliding her shaking hand on the railing, to mentally tired to make her hand grasp it, she continued.  
  
On the next level, silence, giving way to whispers as nurses and Doctors went in and out of rooms, Lily paused again. She had to fight not to run to one of the Doctors, demanding to know if her son was all right. Don't even mutter the words, Lily; you'll start a panic. She looked around again, judging the normalness of the people. No one even knows; how do you do it Dumbledore? Where did you learn to hide people in plain sight so well?  
  
A single bored witch occupied the desk, placed to the left of the door. She was flipping through a magazine, The Quibbler, and did not notice Lily until she was standing right in front of the desk. "What can I do for you?" She asked, although her eyes never left the paper.  
  
"Albus Dumbledore asked me to come here, I'm looking for his room." The girl looked up then, and then back down at the paper; Lily tried to see what was on it, but could not. Then the paper shifted, and she could see a picture of James and herself on it, the yearly article of Harry still missing plastered on the headline.  
  
If it had been any other magazine she would have wondered who leaked the photograph, but Luna had asked the first year if her fathers magazine could publish an article, to make the emergency of his missing, evident. Many people had replied about information, but nothing had led them to anything. Nevertheless, Lily and James let them publish a yearly anniversary, just in case.  
  
"Lily Potter?" She asked, blinking and glancing down at her paper again. When she looked up, checking the woman in front of her again, Lily was nodding impatiently, lips pursed in annoyance. "Yes, my name is Lily Potter, that clarified, could you please tell me the door number?" The girl nodded, to stupid to care that she had been insulted.  
  
"Sure, number nine." Should have just walked past you then. With the thought, Lily walked perhaps a tad bit fasted past the desk and into the room then she normally would have.  
  
The hall was much narrower then the outside one was, but the furnishing was much more business-like; it was rich, dark wood that adorned the walls instead of the white washed ones, and the lamps hanging over them made it impossible to mistake, or nor see clearly, the numbers. She walked down them, slowly; listen for her sons' voice.  
  
She paused at seven; knowing it was not her number but wanting to hear James talk to Harry. When she walked through the door, he would back away, and be laughing and unserious; it was just his way. 'There can only be one serious person in a room at once, it gets to crowded after that' he often told her, when she asked about his changes. 'And you act the roll so well.' He would add, smiling sheepishly at her. Perhaps I do; will Harry hate that?  
  
She could almost hear her husband murmuring by her eat: 'don't be crazy, he always sided with you when he was little; he'll still side with you.' And she knew exactly what her replay would have been. He was one, James, and I fed him, changed his diaper, and put him to bed. Not to mention when you tried to tuck him in he cried from your lullaby. He was a baby; he'll be older now.  
  
Lily wanted James to answer back to that one, to reassure her until she was positive she could walk into that room without crying. But he did not answer that one for her, so she took the next step to reach number nine. So what if she cried, James would have balled his eyes out already.  
The knob was a worn gold color; she put her hand on it.  
  
DUMBLEDORE...  
  
"And the figures emerged, one by one, the old fighters returned; to help the boy who would end the war. Perhaps, you can imagine, loosing a classmate, having your blood used to raised the man who killed your parents and then dueling when you are not even sure how to do so, with a man who has killed, and tortured many before you. At that age, I must admit, I would be calling for my parents, begging them to help me; but Harry Potter did not. That instinct must have worn out many years ago...  
  
Harry did call their names that night though, and they did help him...they rose out of Voldemort's wand. Harry could see his father, James, come out of the wand, his hair as messy as Harry's; his glasses as the same size and fit. He could see his mother, her red hair, and the same green eyes as he had, and..."  
  
Dumbledore paused, out of the corner of his eye he could see the knob of the door turn slightly; was it Mr. Weasley? The knob turned fully; the McClain were already turned towards it. "Albus?"  
  
It was not the voice of Ronald, but Dumbledore did know to whom it belonged. He heaved an inward sigh; there was no telling her to go away. "Come in Lily." She pushed open the door, and wrinkled her brow at the absence of her husband, and perhaps, her son.  
  
"Hello, Lily," She turned to him, then and smiled.  
  
"Hello Albus...were is Harry?" His face did not pale, his brow did not wrinkled, he did not wring his hands or look out into space; he merely smiled again. If he was nervous Lily did know where to spot the quirks that usually follow the emotion.  
  
"Harry?' She nodded, and she could not help but wrinkled her brow.  
  
"Are you Lily Potter?" She turned, ready to give the person the same cold glare she had given the young nurse, but the face was not the shocked and eager one that was always spread across their faces, it was interested, thoughtful. She nodded.  
  
"He was telling us about a boy named Harry, Harry Potter; is he your son?" She nodded again, turning a questioning gaze onto Dumbledore.  
  
"Mr. McClain, you seemed to see into a few of my hints; do you think you have solved my puzzle?" Lily looked at him again, and then turned to Ryan.  
  
"What your implying is impossible." He said bluntly, staring evenly at the old man. "They cannot be the same person, not matter how much you imply they look the same." One silver-white eyebrow was the only reply Ryan received for several moments.  
  
"Magic, Mr. McClain, makes almost anything possible..."  
  
DEVLIN, JAMES, SIRIUS....  
  
"A snake bite?" James questioned, voice hitching in concern; Devlin nodded. "Does it hurt?" He asked again, tracing the bandaging. Devlin shook his head. The child laughed inwardly, his both his fathers worried too much.  
  
"Your sure?" Devlin blinked at him, mouth still solidly closed, and nodded again, more firmly. "Did they give you any potions?"  
  
"Yes, a pain reducer." He turned to the door in distraction, eyes glued to the knob.  
  
"What's wrong?" Devlin did not turn to him, his eyes stayed on the door, half fearful.  
  
"Nothing..." James turned the child's head so that it faced him, and looked into his eyes.  
  
"Your worried about something." He said, "Your eyes are like Lily's. What's wrong, you can tell me?" Why do people say that, Devlin wondered, it doesn't make a difference in the long run. It won't change my mind.  
  
Nevertheless, it was more then one thing that was wrong. He could hear the hissing from right outside the hallway, could feel the black eyes staring through the wooden door, and he did not want to meet a second one. He wanted, more then anytime in his eight year as Devlin, to go and find his mother, to call out her name like his sister always does when she is hurt or worried. He almost let the name escape his lip, he almost did call for her, but he knew the only mother these people would get for him was Lily, and right then he wanted Elizabeth.  
  
Then there was Ron; what would he think of his friend now? Will he recognize me? Will he feel like he must treat me as a child? The knob turned, slowly...and Ronald and an older man entered; he could hear the coils moving under that dark fabric. He clamped his jaw shut, resisting the urge to answer.  
  
DUMBLEDORE....  
  
"What is impossible?" The man regarded her for a long moment, trying to gather her ideas, feelings, emotions, and attitude in one swipe. She watched him just as scrutinizing, green eyes gathering the same buried things that Devlin's have the talent for.  
  
"It is impossible, that your son, Harry Potter, could be my son, Devlin." Lily blinked at him, but she did not bother to turn back to Dumbledore.  
  
"Your son?" He nodded, while she shook her head. "No...where would you get such an idea?"  
  
He pulled out his wallet, and handed her a picture of a young boy, green eyes staring endlessly into the camera that had caught captured them. "That, and the scar they both seem to share."She traced the image with her thumb, the women was staring at her strangely. She stood awkwardly, pulling Lily's attention back to them.  
  
Quietly she handed the picture back to the man. "I always wondered what he looked like; we could never find any pictures of him."  
  
Elizabeth tilted her head, eyes showing a dawning understanding. "Mrs. Potter, I have plenty of pictures, and I do not mind you looking at them. If...if" She closed her eyes here, fighting to finish. "I've never seen a snake in my life, not in my backyard. I have a feeling, knowing Devlin, that he planned this. Tonight, he kept shooing Deirdre away, he yelled at her; he never does that. I-I don't know how, how he could be this boy, but...with Devlin I'll believe almost anything. He wanted to be here...perhaps to see you?"  
  
DEVLIN...  
  
Godric turned a scowl to the cage, Ron's face was green, though he was avoiding eye contact with the cage and James and Sirius's gazes were more of curiosity. Devlin stared at it with full-fledged fear, and an unusual calmness to be associated with such fear.  
  
The man leaned over, the cage coming to hang right in front of Devlin's face, and he asked gruffly, "You the boy who got bit?"  
  
Devlin nodded, refusing to flinch away from the lantern-carried cage. "Yes, sir. Devlin M-"He hesitated for a moment, then stood even straighter, meeting the mans gaze solidly. "Devlin McClain."  
  
"You know what's under this cage?" Devlin did move to answer. "It's the only one of its kind in Ireland, I keep track of them. I study the monsters, and their relatives, and the thing that bit you had to be planted by someone. Tell me who got it there, and where it is now." Again, Devlin did not move. The man thrust the cage closer to his face. "It can bite other people, you little brat. It can kill them-"Devlin shook his head.  
  
"No, it can't. It's paralyzed right now...perhaps, at the most, a mile away. I worked the heating and invisibility spell to give way to a paralyzing in approximately a mile. Now, I'm only eight, so it could be a mile and ten feet..."  
  
The man blinked, but recovered quickly. "You think you can control it, do you? I'll let this one out then, see if you'd like to get bitten again."  
  
"You will not!" James cut in, glaring at the man. "I'm his father, I forbid you to." The man made to yell back an insult, but the small boys voice stopped him, as he reached to move the fabric away from the cage.  
  
"She doesn't like you, your loud and mean...you hurt her..." The man froze, staring down at the boy. "She's always in a cage...always blind of light. Your afraid of her, and to stop the fear you hide her, lock her...blind her...she's never seen the moonlight, does not know her own name..." The man pulled the cage away from the boy, still frozen with shock. "Let her out...I won't let her hurt you...she's very lonely..."  
  
"Are you simple, boy? This kind of animal bit you, nearly killed you! What in the world are you trying to pull? 


	30. Not Silver and Gold, All Gold

James held his breath, resisting the urge to correct Harry's name. The boy had been kind; more so than James would have been if someone had changed his name. Seven years missing, twenty-three years from knowing his parents...the numbers where staggering as James looked at the boy in front of him.

When the man threatened to let the beast, though certainly a small one if the cage was any indication, out on his son, protectiveness bubbled up in his chest, and the strange name lost all meaning. The boy _was_ his son, he reminded himself, as he yelled at the man, _his_ son. The evidence was laid clearly in front of anyone who wish to look: His own flyaway hair, the glasses, the face, and, anyone could have guessed the mother easily enough as well, in the nose and most dramatically the eyes. Still his son, even if the name was Devlin and not Harry.

He did not notice his son's hands moving to brush the fabric away from the cage before the words Devlin uttered stopped him from moving closer. More so than the words, though they frightened him nearly as much, was the voice in which he said them. A whisper, extending the S's, and the tone was one of faraway thought. So, when the man asked what he was trying to pull, he was ready to admit an equal ground on the question. He would love to know that as well.

Devlin's eyes refocused in a sharp second, his hand pulling away from the cage. "Nothing." He said, stumbling over the word. "I'm sorry." When James leaned down to touch the boy's shoulders, he flinched away. Devlin hated the rush of power that language made him feel, but detested more the sensation that Voldemort might have felt the same when it spilled from him. Not this early, he told himself, how could you be so reckless!

Another pair of hands touched his arm, more a brother's touch than a father's. Devlin made to draw away again, but the person had him in a one armed hold before he could escape. "Hermione told you mother, but she thought James would have a fit if he heard. Apparently, Snape tried to learn the language in school." It was a whisper by his ear, assuring him of its privacy.

Devlin closed his eyes tightly, knowing well whom the voice belonged to. The face came floating in his mind, almost so vividly that he felt he needn't open his eyes ever again, but he did. When he turned, he smiled. The same freckles, though the face was past the awkward stage most boys' go through and quiet handsome. The same smile, nothing there had changed. The most striking, was the way the man had to bend to reach him, he was still as lanky as ever. And Devlin was most certainly much smaller.

"You will have to tell him, but you did not directly speak to the thing. It'll be all right; you'll get through this. He's not the tiniest bit as bad as Hermione. Really, he'll change the subject to Quiddich in the matter of questions. Nothing alike to my mum either, more alike to the twins really." He was grateful for the comparisons, as he knew very little about this man. Ron rose to his feet, towering over Devlin.

Devlin swallowed then turned to his father, one of them, opening his mouth to explain. "A lot of people probably took it upon themselves to tell you only good things about me." He began.

OUTSIDE THE ROOM....

The Auror who was watching the door was a new recruit, and determined not to leave his base, or let anyone that was not authorized, in. It was unfortunate, than, that his first test on keeping said people out was Lily Potter, and Elizabeth and Ryan McClain. _Hold tight_, he had thought the moment he saw them heading in his direction. 

Hello," the fiery haired on had began, a nice welcoming smile on her face. The man swallowed, knowing somehow he did not want that smile to turn upside down. "I'd like to get in the room." He stood straighter.

"Your name, miss?" She glared at him, but obliged. He was glad when she uttered a name he could enter, but stopped her as the others behind her began to go with her. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your names?" _Yes, be the gentleman as long as possible._ He whispered, holding his breath.

"Elizabeth and Ryan McClain." The man said, narrowing his eyes at the guard.

"I can't allow either of you to enter." The fire haired one turned to glower at him, oddly reminiscent of Snape's worst looks.

"How dare you. I'll gather up Dumbledore and let him scold you himself, but I highly doubt he has the time. Perhaps the family resemblance is unclear to you, but these are the boys _parents!" _The man swallowed and resigned to get fired as he let them enter. Miss Potter patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. You'll be in the paper sometime this week." He blinked, but she was through the door before he could ask anything more.

LOBBY.....Down stairs Remus and Hermione shared an anxious glance, both tapping their fingers on their knees. Remus made a move to speak, but shut his mouth; no subject seemed strong enough to break the tense silence.

"Do you think Lily found it well enough?" Hermione asked, ten minutes after Remus had asked the same thing. He shrugged just as she had, and smiled in unsure ness. "I would suppose so. He added, trying to stretch out the only question either of them could ask. "She was never one to get lost in Hogwarts, and if you don't get lost there then you don't get lost anywhere. Hermione smiled, more out of habit then anything meaningful.

"Miss Granger?" Hermione turned quickly, looking at the young man running down the stairs two at a time. He was wearing an Auror's badge, and Hermione knew him from the Order. _A young one,_ she recalled, _sure everything he did was not right in the books. He would get over that stage, they all did. _

"Yes, Mister Patterson?" She asked calmly, wondering why he was here.

"I think I just made two of my biggest career mistakes!" He raked a hand through his hair, worrying his lip. Hermione sighed; she doubted it was very bad. "I was looking for the doctor that took care of the boy I brought in, but I can't find him, but you and Mr. Lupin are just fine. I...I let someone into the room I wasn't allowed too, and then...I left my post." Hermione blinked.

"The little boy you brought in? Was his name Devlin McClain? And who did you let in?" The man shrank back, then seemed to notice he was being intimidated and pulled his back straight already seemed to regret coming to her.

"Yes, his name was Devlin McClain. Miss Potter wanted to go in, I let her in. But...she wanted to bring a couple with her, claimed they where the boy's parents. I...everybody in the old crowd knows better then to cross Lily Potter. I...let them in." He bowed his head, as if he expected Hermione to start scolding him.

"It's alright, Mister Patterson. Have a seat, if your hungry I can get you some coffee, and a pastry. Devlin McClain is well able to take care of himself, and he'll only get that chance if someone can get past Lily. We're both bored out of our minds; why not join us. Tell us of this boy, and I'll get you a cup of coffee.

DEVLIN...."A lot of people probably took it upon themselves to tell you only good things about me." He began, swallowing another bout of fear. How could he be afraid of this confrontation when he had faced even worse things? _They can't be as bad as convincing Deirdre you don't want to play dollhouse, _he thought with a slight inward smile_._

"But there are thing you might not like about me...everyone has something. When the Killing Curse struck my forehead, it gave me some of Voldemort's powers, one of them talking to snakes. I've used it before today, only a handful of times as Harry Potter, but I always use it for well meaning things. I would say good, but not all well meaning things turn out good.

"I used it to get here, I made that snake bite my arm, I knew it would call the Auror's and, although probably seen badly in the Auror's eyes, I did that with good intentions. I'm not so sure, now though. You all seem inclined to ignore I have another family, and you all seem to think it is only possible to love one pair of parents. I...I can't be that Harry again; I can only be Devlin. But...I can still be your son...

For a moment James was unsure what to say, certainly no one had told him this about his son. The fact that his son had this power frightened him for a fraction of a second, but once that shiver had past it seemed he could not produce anymore. It didn't matter that he could do it, it mattered what he chose to do with it. What bothered James most out of this was that no one had told him; no one had expected him to be able to understand the separate parts of having ability's and using them for different things.

"Devlin, I don't care if you can talk to that snake...so long as you warn me if it wants to bite my head off." He bent down to the child, placing his hands on his tiny shoulders. "I can't say I understand having to share you...but I suppose that knowledge with come with time. As long as I get to meet them, and your happy, then everything is fine.

LILY, RYAN AND ELIZABETH.....

Lily didn't move, although Sirius, Ron and another young man had already spotted her. The couple behind her stood as frozen as she did, smiling as their son spoke to James Potter.

When James released the boy from a tight hug, spotting Lily he smiled and released him. Devlin, noticing the welcoming smile on his father's face, frowned and turned around. In an instant he had run up to his mother, Elizabeth, grabbing her around the waist. "I thought they'd obliviate****you." He whispered to her, as she bent down.  
  
"I'm not quiet sure what that means, but it didn't happen...we learned a lot today, Devlin." He frowned at her, then nodded.

"I supposed you would...is Deirdre alright?" His mother nodded, assuring him they had called a babysitter. He looked back into the room for a moment. "Mum and dad, I want to introduce you to some people. He pulled at his mother's wrist, blushing suddenly when he spotted Lily. Suspecting they had already met, he moved on.

"This is Godric, he was my friend when I was little..." His father shook the younger mans hand, but his mum was pulled away to fast to shake his as well. "And this is James Potter...my other father.

He looked up into his Ryan's eyes, but they where warm. He shook James's hand, and Devlin let his mother linger a bit longer as they introduced themselves.

"This is...Sirius Black..." He motioned suddenly for his mother to bend down, and whispered something into her ear, glad that Remus was not there. "It could be arranged, I'm sure." She assured him, but what Devlin had said was a mystery to the other occupants of the room. "My godfather." He paused here, then tapped his chin with a finger. "He has a flying motorcycle, I rode it as a baby." He wanted to laugh, as his mother swallowed a lecture on safety.

"That must have been fun, Devlin." He shrugged, admitting he didn't remember.

"Wizards have brooms too, mum, that you fly high, high into the air. I used to be on my team at school. I fell off of one once." This time, instead of holding back, she glared at him. Catching on that he was using this for amusement. "I broke my arm, and this fool of a teacher tried to repair it with his want, I told you was a fool mind you, and being such he did the wrong spell and I had to go to the nurse because I lost _all_ the bones in my arm!" His mother looked green.

END......A.N: I do have a good excuse for being late on this, really I do. I've been worrying over some important things, that needed desperately to be thought out, and I haven't had time to write...anything creative. Anyway, I know I've been lousy at answering responses, but this is life-changing stuff I'm thinking of, and so is put before this, even though I like this more. I'll try to write review answers, and I'll try to update quicker. This is short, but I've written it in an hour, so give me a bit of slack. I'm working on another fanfic that I have not posted yet, and have not touched in ages, and a rewrite of this one. Never my mind my own novel which I hope to get shipped off to a publisher this _year_.

**P.S: I FIXED THE SEPERATION MARKS, THEY DIDN'T SHOW UP THE FIRST TIME, SORRY ABOUT THAT.**


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